To Catch a Sparrow
by AgentSparrow08
Summary: LxOC.She's great for unintentionally interfering with his operations;but when an extremist organization begins to run rampant around the globe,L must join forces with a fellow detective known only as Sparrow to bring them down.Is L ready for her?
1. Model Mangler

**Disclaimer: Neither of us own Death Note! **

**Death Note belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata **

**A/N from lorraine24:**

_**Greetings all! I'm so happy to be working on this story with shadowtale! I adore writing for L ;and Shadowtale has created a couple of awesome OC's to invade his world! I just know this story is going to be a blast to write! I hope everyone enjoys! **_

**A/N from shadowtale:**

**_Welcome and thanks for taking a chance on our new Death Note collab! I hope you'll find it exciting, hilarious...and most of all, fun. I felt L needed a new challenge not only for his sharp mind, but also for those hidden away emotions of his. Let's see how he handles her...enjoy! _**

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><p><strong>Model Mangler.<strong>  
><strong>Chapter 1.<strong>

It was the perfect day to hand pick a new victim. The early showers of April left the local teenagers with little choice as to how to spend their short weekends of leisure. With little in the area to serve as entertainment, the only real place for them to go was the two story mall on the west side of town.

The smaller cities were always the most challenging. The communities were normally tight knit. Everyone knew each other, and the few strangers that passed through stuck out like a sore thumb. The lone traveler nodded at each curious eye he passed as he strolled through the mall way. His smile was pleasant, but not because he was trying to be friendly.

His appearance was like that of a door-to-door salesman; dressed in a bland brown business suit that looked like it had been pulled from the back self of a thrift store. He could hardly be considered a corporate big-wig with such a suit. It was the way he carried himself that made him appear professional and important. He was well groomed and had a confident posture. There was no sign of a five o'clock shadow and not a hair on his copper brown head was out of place.

His demeanor alone camouflaged what he truly was. He had managed to evade every detective on the North American continent that had tried to track him down. Every strike was completely random, with great distances between them. His travels had taken him all across the States. He even managed a few pit stops in Canada. Every so often, he toyed around with the idea of hitting Mexico.

Fortunately for the young women of Mexico; the serial killer, known as the 'Model Mangler', didn't speak a word of Spanish. Torturing wasn't any fun if there was no way of understanding what they were saying in their tearful pleas. He couldn't chance hiring a translator… unless he got lucky and stumbled upon a bilingual beauty. He could keep her as a pet and _force_ her to translate. She could watch the other women slowly die and know that she would meet the same fate once he was ready to leave Mexico. The smallest of laughs suddenly escaped him as he walked.

His new fantasy was quickly forced to the side when he caught sight of his hunting ground. A small stage with a walkway was nestled in between the hallway of two boutiques. He had seen the Spring fashion show advertised in a local flier that had been on the desk in his current hotel room. The welcome folders and brochures that could be found in most hotel rooms were always something he paid close attention to. They gave him a solid destination. He seldom had to worry about wandering around; looking like a lost dog.

After a short wait, the annoying noise that most of his victims referred to as 'music' started blaring through the speakers. The repetitive beats and the high pitch girlie voice that accompanied them echoed through his ears like the annoying buzz of a house fly. It was almost enough to make him lose focus. He tuned it out the best he could as he watched each girl strut down the walkway.

None of the models were professionals; just a bunch of local teenagers who had the delusional idea that they were somehow beautiful. It almost made him start laughing again. None of his victims were beautiful until they were bleeding. None of them could truly say they were worth something until that priceless look of fear engulfed their eyes. Without his own _personal_ makeover, no female could ever truly have the right to claim that it was their _beauty_ that drove their own arrogance- and not their own shallow stupidity. Females were hideous creatures— every last one of them. They disgusted him even more than the males. Humans were all together hideous. Their ugliness knew no race, gender or culture. It plagued the entire species.

The individuals he preyed upon were worth about as much to him as the bird shit that always seemed to target his windshield during the warm season. It wasn't their false beauty that he wanted. No. What he needed from them was their pain— their fear. It was his favorite drug, though the effects wore off far too quickly.

In a crowd of a little less than two dozen, he watched each girl with a lion's eye. The attire they displayed was almost as tacky as the music. He had seen his late grandmother dress more fashionably. He had almost decided to target the girl wearing the pink and white polka dots. '_Polka dots… who the hell wears polka dots? That outfit alone should be her death warrant. She looks too timid though.'_

Each young girl pranced around stage with fake smiles plastered on their faces. It was like a bunny parade. He was ready to settle for the girl wearing the polka dots, though she didn't seem to fit the personality he was looking for. The small town girls were turning out to be a disappointment.

The man was starting to get bored. He almost lost interest all together and started laying out more details of his Spanish translator fantasy. And then… he saw _her_. Her orange and white spring dress was just as hideous as the others. She wasn't as boney as some of the other girls, but she wasn't overweight either. He could see that she was active just by looking at her toned calves. Her blonde hair was pulled up into bun and accented with chopstick accessories.

Her blue violet eyes gleamed with what appeared to be an arrogant pride. Her walk was smooth and graceful. Her expression suggested that she was trying to go for a slight hint of seduction. In his opinion, her overall appearance didn't differ too much from the other models; but unlike the other girls, she was confident, perhaps… a little _too _confident. As the man continued to study her, he swore he could see a touch of anger or annoyance in her eyes. It was odd.

'_She's so arrogant; she's bored with the whole thing. She sees no point in even being here because the other girls are below her in her eyes. She's perfect! She'll be so much fun to break!'_ He rubbed his thumb against his middle and index finger as he thought. It wasn't the physical features that he looked for in a victim at all; but rather demeanor and attitude.

He couldn't help but overhear a loudmouth teenager shout out of the crowd. "Whooooo hooooo! That's my girlfriend up there! She _knows_ she's the shit! She's never not won a trophy for the shows that have them judges in em'!"

The boy's heavy southern accent and use of grammar made the man's head turn. _'Never not? Them judges?'_ His attention was focused on a young slender male, about 5'11" in height. He had dark shaggy hair and green eyes that stared at the blonde on stage with adoring eyes. He was dressed in tight straight-legged jeans and a grey flannel. Typical redneck attire, but this boy was at least neat about it. No wrinkles. The jeans actually looked like they had been pressed. The only other thing that really stood out about him was the annoying smile on his face. The man almost instantly wanted to slice it off with a blade.

The man cut his eyes back to the girl on stage. _'That settles it. She's the one. And she's here with her redneck boyfriend? This will be more than fun. Snatching her will be almost as exhilarating as looking into those over confident and cocky eyes as I peel the top three layers of her skin back. I normally start at the wrists, but I think I'll start somewhere on the chest for this one_—_ or maybe just above the navel. That way, she can look down and see what I'm doing to her.'_

Once again, he almost laughed out loud. _'Who's going to save you, little girl? Your illiterate and uneducated boyfriend? The Barney Fifes' of your little hole in the ground police department? The incompetent FBI that remain at least 20 steps behind me, no matter how much overtime they put in? The pillars of justice that have no idea I'm even here?' _

His _own_ over confident thoughts were on such a roll, he almost felt himself getting aroused. _'No. No one can save you from the Boogey Man. Justice is a joke, and I'm laughing so hard at it; I could explode at any moment.' _

His friendly smile had turned into a slight smirk, but he maintained his calm demeanor. _'No one is capable of stopping me! No one can outwit me! Let them keep trying! Let them feel defeat at the hands of the greatest criminal mind to ever exist in this rotten word! Who can possibly stop me other than God himself?' _

He had to choke back on a laugh at his last thought; silently issuing a challenge to any higher power who wanted to listen. _'Screw theology! If humans were created in His form, then He, Himself, can't possibly be all that bright! Not even God can stop me! Send me your best! Give me some sort of challenge, for Christ's sake!' _The man narrowed his eyes and waited patiently for the last set of attire to be displayed. Only then, could he make his move. He studied his surroundings and saw nothing put incompetent bystanders. _'No one…'_ He repeated it to himself several times. _'No one…'_

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><p>"I'm not seeing anything suspicious so far, but then again, only a few of the girls who signed up for this fit the profile of his preferred victims." Standing on the furthest side of the stage was a man dressed in a half unbuttoned red shirt with a fashionable black jacket and matching pants. His age looked around thirtyish. There was a little trace of stubble on his face, and his blonde hair was worn in a relaxed style.<p>

He was the director of the show, yet he talked through his headset as if he were an undercover cop. Though in truth, he was neither of the above; his true purpose was to catch a killer. The entire show had been set up in hopes of luring the 'Model Mangler' out of hiding.

On the receiving end of his headset was the man he worked for— the brains behind the operation. He could hear a slight grown coming from his boss. "At the very least, Aiber; you could have selected an album that doesn't drill through my nerves." His boss apparently wasn't fond of the loud dance music that was blaring from the speaker that sat just behind Aiber.

Aiber smiled slyly— his eyes never resting as they darted back and forth from the stage to the audience. "Aww. You don't actually mean that. I bet you're dancing to it right now. You're probably a regular twinkle toes."

There was a slight pause. "Perhaps _I_ should be the one on stage rather than Wedy."

The mental image of his boss parading down the catwalk in a brightly colored spring dress and moving to the beat almost made him lose his professional composure. "That'd attract one hell of a crowd. Speaking of Wedy, she told me to inform you that she hates you and will never work for you again after this."

"I see. As always, I will look forward to working with her in the future." Several miles away, a young man with wild black hair sat crouched in front of several monitors. He wasn't dancing, as Aiber had teasingly suggested. Instead, the world's greatest detective was delicately holding a fork with a bite of shortcake up in the air— studying it as if it were a newly discovered piece of evidence. Slowly, he guided the fork to his opened mouth — like a mother playing 'food airplane' with a toddler.

L was used to hearing Wedy complain about some of the undercover work he asked her to do. If it didn't involve challenging her master thievery skills, she hated it. Regardless of how many times she told him that she was done working for him, however; it was always little more than talk. Her loyalty would always lie with L. L was just as much of an asset to Wedy as she was to L. The same could be said for Aiber. The thief, the con-artist and the detective— they were an oddly matched trio, yet a very effective team.

L closed his mouth around his bite of cake and made a very faint moan of pleasure. Aiber would have never picked up the sound— with or without the loud music. With a mouth now full of cake, L studied the monitors in front of him. He had infiltrated the malls security cameras, so he could see the stage and the audience from several different angles. "Mmm… It's actually more convenient that the other participants don't match the profile. That assures us that he will choose Wedy. Wedy is the only one who can do this without falling into a state of panic. You must make sure he gets her into his vehicle."

With the help of Wedy and Aiber, L had been able to figure out the general pattern of the killer's movements. To the police and FBI, the Model Mangler had no pattern. He struck in completely random places all across the states at random times. He picked up a victim in whatever town he happened to be in when the urge hit him. Rather than using the actual time and locations to establish a pattern, L had focused more on the carved patterns that had been found on the last 7 bodies.

The bodies were normally so mangled; it seemed the marks were just as random as the locations. One of the corpses had been skinned almost completely. It was that one that had first suggested the killer was starting to leave clues— more than likely because he didn't feel like he was being challenged. The Model Mangler needed his adrenaline rushes. Most serial killers did. It was the rush that the adrenaline created that gave them a temporary feeling of euphoria. It was like a drug. Just like any drug, however; that adrenaline never lasted long. It had to be re-administered again and again.

That first clue— the one found on the victim he had skinned alive— was found carved in a lower leg bone. The nerves and muscles had been sliced away from it, leaving it fully exposed. The heavy blood clotting had suggested the victim had still been alive for the process. The scene was by far the most disturbing in the case. The small chisels that circled the bone were almost identical to the pin locations where the other bodies had been found.

It suggested that the killer wasn't as random as the police had originally thought. The small clues that the killer left behind were presented differently on each body. Only the keenest of eyes could have spotted them. The significant cuts had to be filtered from those that were inflicted in areas which would cause the most pain; as well as the ones that were created in the climax of the killer's rage. The bodies alone served as L's puzzle pieces.

The only downside of it was the fact that crime scene photos alone weren't always enough to spot the small details. For three of the victims, he had no other choice but to pose as a representative of one of his other aliases so that he could examine the bodies in person. L hated posing as an investigator. It forced him to make himself look halfway presentable so that he wouldn't raise any suspicion. He didn't find the smell of death to be very pleasant either.

It had been an interesting challenge, yet it wasn't one that proved impossible for L. It was only a matter of time before he had found his suspect. Wedy and Aiber were all he needed to send ahead of the killer to plant the necessary traps. The small town fashion show that seemed to display only the loudest and gaudiest of Spring outfits was little more than a ploy to lure the killer to his next victim.

If everything went according to plan, Wedy would be the next to get abducted. The Model Mangler often posed as a talent scout, looking for fresh new faces. Once he had a girl's interest, he would find ways to lure her to his vehicle— be it by telling her he left his business cards there or convincing her to have coffee for a full interview. If they didn't fall for his bluff, he'd simply follow the one he wanted out to her car and abducted her from behind.

There were a total of 18 teens and young women participating in the show. Wedy was to be number 15 in the queue line. L pulled his bottom lip down towards his chin with his thumb and index finger as he watched the monitors. He'd let go so that it would land over his top lip before pulling it down again. He looked bored out of his mind.

His suspect hadn't moved; nor had he made any expression that indicated he was interested in what he was seeing. L had expected this much. The first victims had been known for being shy and timid; but as the Model Mangler killed more and more, he began targeting the more feisty personalities.

L didn't stop playing with his bottom lip until model number 8 walked down the walkway. His eyes moved over to the man in the audience. The model had his full attention, until… a young man—maybe a teenager— shouted out of the crowd. The suspect's attention slowly shifted over to the voice in the crowd; as did L's. _'The model's… boyfriend. Something seems a little off about him. His accent seems forced to me.'_

L noticed his suspect turn his attention back to the stage. The dead stare he gave the girl alerted L that he had found his prey. "He has his potential victim in sight, Aiber. This is a little unexpected, but it shouldn't make things difficult."

"If he already has his eyes set on number eight, then Wedy will be relieved she won't have to model."

"Please, don't misunderstand me. Just because we will have to resort to Plan B doesn't mean Wedy is free of her duty."

"But there really isn't any point in…"

"You're right. There _is_ no point other than for my own personal amusement. Do not update her on the situation until she has walked the stage."

Aiber flashed his celebrity grin. "You're a dirty, dirty boy." There was no answer on the other end of the receiver. L certainly wasn't admitting it, but he wasn't denying it either.

When Wedy's turn finally came, she stomped down the stage with the stone face of a true model. She wore a light blue spring dress with a white hat. The hat came complete with a long baby blue ribbon wrapped around it. It was a far cry from what Wedy would normally wear. Aiber chuckled at the way she walked. It was almost like a military march. He could see her hands fighting not to ball up into fists. "Oooo, someone isn't happy. It would be _me_ that has to inform her she walked up there for nothing."

L ran his thumbnail lightly across his bottom lip. "I'm sure you can handle a slap across the face. You can't possibly tell me you're not more than familiar with those."

"There's no need to get personal. I'm taking this hit for you— just so you know." Aiber glanced at the man they had been watching. "He looks like he's just as interested in Wedy as the other girl. How do we know which one he'll decide on?"

L had gone back to nibbling on his piece of cake. His words were muffled with food. "He'll try to approach model number 8 first. The presence of her boyfriend presents more of a challenge, and it's obvious from his previous two abductions he's looking for a way to make things more difficult for himself. It adds to the thrill of the chase. Proceed with Plan B as soon as number 18 has finished her walk."

"Got it."

As soon as the last model had left the stage and the music stopped, L watched the suspect make his way to the side of the stage area. Model number 8's boyfriend was trailing close behind, though he didn't appear to be following the man. L studied the boyfriend more closely now that he wasn't surrounded by a crowd of people.

The boy's expression look fully focused_— _or fully on guard. He appeared to be scanning the area for more than just his girlfriend. His eyes were scanning every person that had lingered around the stage. Was he looking for someone else? Was he simply a paranoid individual? _'Something seems off— something about that teenager. It could be nothing though. Surely he couldn't be another suspect? No. Perhaps I should… yes— just to be safe.' _

Normally, L would have eagerly greeted unexpected suspicious activity. It always made the game more fun. This time, however, he decided he couldn't afford the possibility of losing complete control if things got out of hand. A crowded mall was not the place to play games— or at the very least, games that were actually interesting.

"Aiber, I need you to cancel Plan B. Wedy will be happy to know her efforts were not wasted. Please make sure the suspect takes Wedy and not number 8. Also, I'll need you to plant a tracking device on number 8 just in case something goes wrong and he grabs the wrong girl. I'd also like to profile the boyfriend to make sure I'm not missing the possibility of another suspect. Once our killer has lured Wedy into his vehicle, you may leave the rest to me."

"Sure, I can do that. Why the sudden change of plans all of a sudden? Were you starting to feel guilty about making Wedy model? You know, I think you just saved me that slap in the face."

"This is very serious, Aiber. Make sure that Wedy stays the main target, even if you have to distract model 8. The Model Mangler will no doubt try and pose as a model agent. Though his con artist skills are novice compared to yours, they're effective enough to fool a naïve young girl. Find number 8 before _he_ does."

"A naïve young girl… number 8 didn't come off as naïve at all from what I saw. Sometimes I wonder if that's how you view all females."

L was starting on another piece of cake. Instead of slicing it with a fork, he brought his plate up to his face and started licking the icing off of it. "Not females. Try the majority of _humanity_." It almost sounded like he was holding his tongue while he was speaking.

"As a professional con man, I can see the truth in that." Aiber kept his voice to a whisper. "I'd love to chat some more, but the suspect is only a few feet away from 8. Wish me luck."

"Ga-uk." L was obviously still licking icing off of his cake. Aiber assumed he was just getting a bad signal.

Aiber quickly made his way to model number 8. Her eyes were darting through the crowd as though she were looking for someone— more than likely her boyfriend. He hurried his pace when he saw the suspect had already approached her. _'Shit! He doesn't waste any time!'_

"Excuse me, Miss. I hate to bother you, but I just had to tell you how great you were up there. You held the audience's attention the whole time you were up there—the walk, the expression… the_ feel_. I don't suppose you've ever considered a side career in modeling, have you?" The Model Mangler wore his most inviting smile as he eyed the blonde girl in front of him.

A set of blue-violet eyes studied him for a moment before returning the smile. "Well… to be honest, the thought has never occurred to me. You really think I could do it for a living?" Her accent was almost as bad as her boyfriend's.

He had to fight a smirk. She was going to fall for his bluff. He could feel his adrenaline start to rush when the boyfriend suddenly appeared beside her and gave her a bear hug. "Damn, baby girl! You're the finest thing in this here county!" Not even the boy's annoying slang and bad grammar could spoil the killer's mood —though the stupid smile the teenager was _still_ wearing slightly threatened it.

His future victim kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and nodded her head in his direction. "This man here says I'd be a great professional model! Can you believe that?"

Her boyfriend darted a quick look in the man's direction before returning to his attention back to his girlfriend. "Is that right? Well, I'll be damned!" He looked back over at the man and narrowed his eyes. "Does that mean she has to pose for magazines? Cuz I don't want her in them smut zines— the ones where they don't have nothing on. You can just forget it if that's what you're trying to pull. My girl ain't like that!"

"No, I promise you that isn't…"

"He's not that sort of model agent." All three of them were surprised to see a tall blonde man had suddenly stepped into the conversation. It was Aiber, AKA the director and coordinator of the Spring show. "If he was, then he wouldn't be allowed to survey here." He cut a suspicious eye toward the 'model agent'. Should I assume you're off the clock? I don't recall seeing you sign in at the agent table."

"…I'm… off the clock. I just happened to be here at the mall today." The man could feel himself starting to get nervous.

"Well, I need Miss Durling to sign a few parting waivers, so I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short. I can't allow her to leave with someone who hasn't had his credentials checked as long as she's still on my contract."

The man looked annoyed. Everything had been going so well up until that point. He could have lured both the girl and the boy out to his car for a lunch to discuss a future in modeling. He had a syringe full of tranquilizer to subdue the boy; and the girl's strength was more than likely laughable, just as the other's had been. His first chance to score a couple was leaving almost as fast as it had presented itself. He stayed calm. "I'm a legit agent, thank you. In fact, I'll go get my business cards out of my van while she signs her waiver. I'll even sign in at your agent table."

Aiber took that as the signal that the man was trying to get away. _'Good. As long as I keep these two occupied, he'll turn his attention to Wedy.' _Aiber smiled a cool and collected smile. "You do that then. It shouldn't take her long to sign her release forms."

The girl's boyfriend appeared confused. "Release forms? She ain't being release from no hospital." It almost sounded like he was stalling.

Aiber blinked his eyes in an unnatural pattern; trying to shake away the sound of teen's stupidity. "It's a legal document that releases her from some of the legal obligations on her entry form. It'll only take a minute. Please, the two of you come with me, if you will."

The man who killed for a rush balled one of his fists as the group split up. _'Damn it! What rotten fucking luck! I could have had a couple—a couple! I guess I'll just have to find the other one.'_

The young couple seemed a little reluctant to let the model agent go, but they followed Aiber regardless. Aiber couldn't help but notice the two taking turns looking back. He suddenly heard L through his ear piece. "Our suspect has located Wedy. He's about to approach her now. I'm starting to suspect there's more to this young couple than they're letting on. Their behavior (as well as their forced accents) is suspicious. Please make sure and keep them distracted."

Aiber couldn't answer of course. He gave a quick but stern nod, knowing L could see him through the security cameras. He had heard the conversation between Aiber and the others. _'As I thought, the boyfriend isn't a suspect. I have the right one.' _

L had licked all of the icing off of his cake. He couldn't help but feel curious about the young couple. Was it likely they were also following the Model Mangler? _'No. The chance of that is only 3% at best. No one (aside from myself) has been able to track his movements. This couple would have to be working for someone who's just as capable as me. The thought of someone being even close to my level is just ridiculous. No. I should probably discard the idea all together.'_

L indulged in the rest of his cake as he thought. _'On the other hand… if they're on the same level as an average ranked child at Wammy House, then it shouldn't be that difficult to imagine. They must be mentally exhausted, if that's the case— to have come this far. Let's make it 7%. Either way, I'm still claiming this victory. I'll apprehend the killer and uncover one of his bolt holes in the process. If I can find one, then I'll have the key to uncover them all. All he needs to do is lead me there.'_

"Let's see. I know I put those papers here somewhere. I had the clipboard right here. Here's the form for a store credit card, but where's…" Aiber intentionally trailed off as he pretended like he couldn't find the release papers. He was relieved the store responsible for the show's outfits had left their own fliers and forms all over the table. It actually gave him something to search through.

"Hey. I hate to interrupt, but it looks like that agent is trying to walk off with another one of your models. Has she signed _her_ release form?" The girl said it sarcastically, yet at the same time— suspiciously.

"She's already signed hers. She's free to go." Aiber glanced in Wedy's direction. Sure enough, the 'model agent' was now talking to Wedy. "Hmm. I don't know where that clipboard got off to. That's no problem. I have some extra forms in my briefcase." Aiber retrieved his briefcase from behind the table and started shuffling through it absentmindedly. At that point, the couple started getting fidgety. Both of them seemed eager to go, and they couldn't stop watching the 'agent'.

Aiber finally presented the papers. All the while, he was looking out the corner of his eye as Wedy and the suspect began to head towards the mall exit. "Here we are. If you'll just quickly read over this and sign here, here and here; I can turn you loose with your store gift certificate that was promised."

Aiber strategically handed Miss Durling a pen that was almost out of ink. The very thing that had earlier annoyed him enough to scribble a hole through the paper he had been writing on was now serving as his good luck charm. She scowled as she tried to get the pen to work. "This pen isn't working. Please tell me you have another one. I'm sort of in a hurry."

"Sure." Aiber noted something to himself as he reached into his brief case for another pen. _'Her accent isn't as strong when she's annoyed. In fact, it almo st sounds like a touch of another accent. Odd…'_

Aiber's thoughts were suddenly interrupted. "We're losing him! They're out the door!" Aiber turned around to see the boyfriend bolting off. _'… and his southern accent is completely gone now.'_

Miss Durling jerked the pen out of Aiber's hand and scribbled a half signature on the required lines. She flashed a forced grin as she shoved the clipboard and pen back into Aiber's chest. Aiber could hear L talking through the earpiece again. "This isn't good."

The girl had already hurried off to catch up with her boyfriend. Aiber was starting to stress. "No shit, Sherlock! This _isn't _good! I haven't planted the tracking device on the girl yet, and she and her southern —British… (whatever he is) boyfriend are going to scare this guy off!"

"Then I suppose you know what you need to do?" L had finished his cake. He was twirling his fork around in the middle of his empty plate. He didn't appear to be too concerned with what was going on.

Aiber started to run after them. Though the boy was already in the parking lot, he managed to catch up to the girl. He ran up behind her and grabbed her shoulder. "Wait a minute!"

In response the girl bolted around and slapped him across the face. "What in bloody hell do you think you're doing? Don't touch me!" There was no question about it. She was British. Her southern accent had vanished.

Aiber rubbed his cheek. "I'm sorry, but you forgot your gift certificate and you weren't responding to my calls. You didn't have to slap me for trying to give you $75 worth of free clothes."

L couldn't help but comment. "It appears you weren't able to avoid your slap in the face after all."

Aiber wanted to tell his boss to go straight to hell, but he managed to bite his lip. He held the gift certificate up and waved it at her sarcastically. She quickly snatched it out of his hand and started off towards the exit again. Aiber couldn't help but feel a little bitter. _'What an ungrateful bitch!'_

As if she had read his thoughts, Miss Durling—model number 8— suddenly stopped in her tracks and reluctantly turned back around to face Aiber. "Thank you! I'm sorry! Have a nice day!" Her expression made her look as though she were annoyed with the fact that she couldn't ignore her manners. Before Aiber could reply, she was already running again.

Knowing the original plan was slowly being destroyed, Aiber followed the girl outside to the parking lot. "I'm waiting on some sort of new order, boss! Help me out here!"

L didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his attention to the monitors that showed the parking lot and stretched his arms out. L had been kind enough to give the mall a set of security cameras in the parking lot. He found the monitor that displayed Wedy and the Model Mangler. They were still walking to the car. Neither of the teens were anywhere in sight. L deduced they were hiding behind the other vehicles. Sure enough, when L's eyes moved toward the monitor that showed the parking area at a different angle, he could see Miss Durling's boyfriend hiding behind a black Sedan.

L finally decided to answer Aiber. "The probability of this getting ugly is 96%. For now, I'd like you to act as a spectator. Let's see what these two have planned. You're armed, should you need to intervene."

Aiber watched nervously as Wedy and the killer approached his van. The man opened the door in the back and pulled out a brief case. He wasn't in too big of a hurry to give away his true intentions. He was having too much fun leading her on. He opened the briefcase and pulled out a fake portfolio to show her. It wasn't until Wedy was flipping through the pages that the Model Mangler made his move.

He reached under the other papers in his brief case and removed a 42 caliber pistol. While Wedy was still looking down at the portfolio, he knocked her in the back of the head with it and shoved her into the van. It seemed a little out of place to use a gun as an object to knock someone in the head with. He could have just pointed the gun at her and threatened to shoot her if she didn't get into the van; but the Model Mangler liked inflicting pain. A blow to the head was more his style. The gun itself was only there for an emergency.

Apparently, this would turn out to be just such an emergency. As he closed the van door, he heard his challenge. "Freeze!" It was the voice of the boyfriend. He had bolted up from behind his hiding place— armed and aiming. The Model Mangler quickly spun around and started firing— not even clearly aware of where his target was.

The teenager wasted no time ducking back behind the car. He was only able to get one shot off in the process. It hit the top part of the man's van. Hearing the gunfire, the pedestrians in the parking lot started panicking. Some were screaming and running for the mall entrance. Some were falling to the ground or hiding behind parked cars to avoid the crossfire. The scene was indeed turning very ugly.

The suspect was soon out of ammo. He heard a female voice coming from another side of the parking lot. "Drop you weapon!"It was classic police dialog—'_Freeze!'… 'Drop your weapon!' _He didn't have time to reflect on the cheesiness of their words. The young redneck couple had been a set up, and he knew he had to get out of there.

He managed to avoid two shots and made it to the driver's side— throwing himself in and closing the door. As he cranked the car, a bullet suddenly blasted through his window; just barely skimming his forehead before exiting the passenger window. The impact hadn't been enough to shatter the passenger window, but the driver's side window was now all over the killer's lap.

He floored the accelerator, causing the wheels to spin. The Model Mangler was going to make his escape with Wedy. Aiber was relieved that the original goal was about to be met. That relief was very short lived. Miss Durling had ran out into the open, shooting the killer's back tires out in the process. The killer wasn't going anywhere. L's plan had been ruined. All Aiber could do now was make sure Wedy got out of the situation unharmed.

Aiber removed his gun from the concealed holster around his right leg and moved toward the van. The couple was also moving slowly toward the van. They were too focused on the van to even notice Aiber slowly creeping up between each row of cars.

"Don't stand out in the open. Remember he's armed and could be reloading his ammunition inside." Aiber's voice startled the couple. They bolted around to see Aiber not only holding a gun, but also flashing his favorite fake police badge.

"The model director is working undercover as well? I would have never guessed." The boy shrugged slightly before turning his full attention back to the van. L started speaking through Aiber's headset again. He was trying to give Aiber the best plan to approach the vehicle, while using the two unknown teens to his advantage. Unfortunately, L had only spoke three sentences before the door at the back of the van suddenly burst open.

Using Wedy as a human shield, the man got out of the van and held a switch blade to Wedy's throat. "She'll die right here unless you drop your weapons and supply me with a new vehicle!" Wedy was still too dazed from the hit on the head to have any sort of reaction.

The three on the other end of the playing field hesitated. The 'redneck' with the pressed jeans and British accent started to lower his gun first. A hostage situation should have been expected, but it still managed to surprise all three of them none the less.

On the other side of the monitors sat a motionless L. Save for one eye twitch, he could have passed as a statue. He didn't like seeing Wedy in her current situation. Though he'd never admit it out loud, L had grown somewhat attached to both Wedy and Aiber. They were, after all, the closest things to friends he had.

His dark round eyes stared unnervingly at the screen. It was finally starting to sink in that he had deliberately put his colleague in danger for the sake of uncovering information. L alone was responsible. He had _wanted_ her to walk into the killer's trap— he'd given her the order. Without looking away from the screen, L reached over and pressed a button to speak.

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><p><strong>AN from Lorraine24:**  
><em><strong>I'm sort of mean to end it with such a cliffhanger. Am I not? LOL! I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter! Thank you so much for reading! <strong>_


	2. Do I Need an Introduction?

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note! **

**A/N from Lorraine24: I'm so sorry for the super long wait! The month of April was a very hectic month for me, and I just couldn't seem to find the time to sit down and think long enough so I could write! I'm going to be a little realistic here and predict that I'll only be able to update once or twice a month. That is subject to change if more of my time frees up. I hate that, but such is the reality of RL. I hope everyone had a great Easter and Spring break! =)**

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><p>L didn't like to think of himself as being <em>attached<em> to anything. As long as he viewed other human beings as little more than game or puzzle pieces, he never had to worry about the burdens of emotional attachment. In the book of L, the greatest tool for surviving in a world of cruelty was apathy: always remain indifferent, no matter what. Without apathy, only fear and suffering waited at the end of the road.

That was the way L lived. _'No attachments… no worries.'_ No attachments— yet there he was, sulking and stunned. His subordinate was being held hostage by a mad man; and L himself had delivered her. Though his eyes never left the direction of the monitors, he closed them briefly as he held down one of his call buttons and began to speak. "Watari…" L tried hard to keep his voice monotone— rather than sound like a whiney kindergartener. It wasn't working as well as he would have liked. "I want my thief back." His bottom lip had protruded into a slight pout.

Wedy's situation wasn't all that was testing L's nerves. His brilliant plan had failed him. If the killer was to be apprehended in the mall parking lot, L's original plan of uncovering the killer's hidden murder and torture areas had just fizzled. Very rarely did L ever have to use his backup plans. It irked him that this happened to be one of those rare occasions.

As if to shake away a bad dream, L turned his head from side to side once and brought the tip of his thumb to his mouth. "You have the coordinates, Watari. You know what needs to be done."

The voice of an older gentlemen replied. "I have them in my sights now."

There was an uneasy silence in the parking lot. The Model Mangler was demanding a vehicle to drive away in and he was using Wedy as his insurance. Aiber was sweating bullets. While the young couple who had pursued the suspect were slowly lowering their weapons, Aiber was a little more reluctant. _'Shit! I'm not cut out for this type of work! I'm a con-artist, not a cop! Give me some kind of order, L! I don't know what to do!'_

Aiber took a deep breath and finally began to lower his weapon. As he exhaled the huge breath of air, his eyes suddenly had to adjust to a new situation. The Model Mangler had dropped his blade, holding his blood covered hand out in shock. His fingers were sprawled out like a cat's claws. The nerve damage prevented him from closing it into a fist. There had been no sound, but there _had_ been a shot fired— a damn _good_ shot!

From the rooftop of the mall stood a man of average height dressed completely in black. A mask covered most of his face, but underneath it, he was smirking with triumph. _'It appears this hawk eyed sniper still has what it takes to save a damsel in distress.'_

The sniper remained in position as a familiar voice lowly rang through his earpiece. "Excellent work, Watari. Please, do not hesitate to fire again— should the situation present itself."

"Understood."

A wave of relief flushed through the tense muscles of L's face. Though his original plan had been foiled, his thief was out of harm's way. A smile threatened the corners of his mouth as he watched a now fully alert Wedy pin her assailant to the ground. _'At the very least, I'm still the one who apprehended the suspect. If not for my hidden sniper, that couple would more than likely be making arrangements to fulfill the suspect's demands.'_

L kept telling himself that the young couple wouldn't have been able to handle the situation on their own, but there was something about the two that still nagged at him. He didn't want to underestimate them. L was overpowered by the urge to investigate who they were— and more importantly, who they worked for. He knew that now, however, he would have to put the desire on hold. The Model Mangler may have been down, but it still wasn't over. "Aiber, due to the present circumstances; I think it would be wise if you made a stealthy exit. The local authorities are already responding to a shoot out in the parking lot, I'd prefer it if we not get tangled up in such a thing."

Aiber wanted to adjust his earpiece to make sure he was hearing L correctly. "But… Wedy has the Mangler pinned down! Are we just supposed to walk away and let these two kids claim the victory?"

"Yes." It was such a simple answer— one that wouldn't receive a follow up. L had apparently decided to step down from the case. At least, that's how it appeared. "I am about to switch over to Wedy's channel so that I may give her the same order. Please, make sure not to leave the premises until she is with you."

The man who had murdered over two dozen women was laying face down on the pavement, moaning in pain. Wedy had him pinned down with his hands behind his back. The hand that had been shot was trembling, still unable to close. Wedy glanced over at the knife that the man had dropped. The bullet had lodged into the handle after going though the man's hand. Wedy was grateful it had stopped at the handle. She couldn't help but feel a little faint as a visual of the bullet going through the handle and into her neck popped into her head.

The thought made Wedy tighten the grip on her arm lock. The man's cry of pain angered her. "What is it? I thought you liked pain. You can deal the cards, but you can't play a hand? Pathetic!" She held his head down firmly against the hot pavement. Wedy wasn't the sort of person anyone wanted to piss off. Her bite was far worse than her bark.

The other undercover model— known as model number 8— had already made her way over to Wedy and the suspect. "We can take it from here, Miss." She flashed a badge to indicate she was with the law, but Wedy wasn't totally sure. Aiber had a badge as well, after all. Wedy hesitated.

L's voice suddenly rang through Wedy's right ear. She was wearing an ear piece that was barely the size of a flea. "Wedy, I need you to continue playing your role as a victim." There were so many choice words that Wedy wanted to reply with at that moment, but Wedy remained silent so as not to blow her cover. L continued. "Allow the female investigator to take custody of the suspect. Once that is done, I will give you further instructions." L knew Wedy wasn't happy with him. In any other case, he wouldn't have cared; but he knew that Wedy's mortality bell had just rang. Wedy had every right to let him have it if she felt like it.

Wedy pressed the killer's face into the pavement one last time before she slowly got up and turned him over to the female investigator. It wasn't hard to wear a look of shock. Wedy hadn't been informed of this last minute change of plan— and boy, did she ever intend on letting L have it.

As the young woman handcuffed the assailant, her male companion approached Wedy. "Are you alright, Miss? There's an ambulance on the way if you—"

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm just a little shaken up. All I need is a good stout drink and a cigarette and I'll be back to normal." L was speaking to Wedy through her earpiece as she spoke. She looked the young man over and gave what looked like a nod. Before he could question it, Wedy grabbed his hand in gratitude. "Are you the one who saved me? You don't know how grateful I am! I was so scared, I— I just…" She turned on her fake tears and fell into his arms. "I was so scared!"

The young man looked a little uncomfortable, but he flashed a sincere smile and patted her on the back. "There, there… you're safe now— I promise." Wedy buried her face into his shoulder and smirked slightly before pulling away from the forced bear hug. "Thank you so much again!" She chocked back on a few sobs as she spoke. Her act wasn't enough to win an Oscar by far, but it had served its purpose. _'He didn't feel a thing.'_

The young woman investigator glanced up at Wedy's little show after she had finished handcuffing the man on the ground. Her eyes then searched for Aiber. _'The modeling director— he's gone.'_ Her eyes darted from side to side as she searched. Aiber had disappeared. _'—and then there's the sniper… he had to have been on the roof; but… who was it? Who else is working this case? I know for a fact the FBI haven't traced the case this far.' _

There wasn't time to think about it. The sirens howled in the distance. She knew it was time to get out of there. Her male companion was already back by her side. "I've got it from here. You need to hurry if you want to remain undetected."

"The model director_—_ and the woman that was taken hostage… they've seen me."

"As have the scattered civilians in the parking lot. Just let me take care of it. Get out of here. Go back into the mall and exit through the west wing."

"Right!" With that, she headed into the direction of the mall entrance; leaving her companion to tie up the loose ends.

From the safety of his undisclosed work area, L's eyes followed the girl on his monitors to the mall entrance. He brought his index finger to touch his smirk as he watched her make her way into the mall and out of a smaller exit on the other side of the building. _'… I see… this woman doesn't want to be seen by the police— which could only mean…'_

The police were on the scene minutes later. L's attention went back to the still unidentified male; who was flashing a badge to the cops approaching him. L thought about trying to zoom in so that he could get a closer look at the guy's badge, but decided it wasn't worth the effort of reaching over to the far end of his camera control board. He tried to hold back a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. It wasn't long before Aiber had made contact again.

"Wedy and I are out of there. I don't even think that guy noticed Wedy leaving— he was so preoccupied with the arrival of the cops."

"Wonderful, Aiber. I shall require further assistance from the two of you before I can officially relieve you from this particular job. Assuming you haven't already done so; would you be so kind as to turn on your speaker phone so that I may address Wedy as well?"

There was a brief pause. "…I don't know if Wedy is up for talking to you right now."

"—Speaker phone, please."

"Ooookay… all set."

"Wedy. Though I realize you aren't very happy with me at the moment, I would like to express to you my relief that you're safe." L was using his voice distorter, which meant it was almost impossible to tell whether or not he was being sincere.

Wedy rolled her eyes. "Pft!"

"Now that we're past the sentimental formalities— I need you to listen very carefully to what I'm about to ask."

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><p>In the early evening of what seemed like a day that refused to end, a young woman rested in the solitude of her hotel room. She was lounging on a small couch and listening to the humming sound of the air conditioner. The only light in the room came from a small crack in the closed curtain. A small glass of iced water with a slice of lemon sat on a table next to her. Her head was back and her eyes closed. A cold rag rested on her brow.<p>

Though she flinched slightly when the door opened, she didn't open her eyes. Instead she sighed deeply as she heard the door close— not bothering to open her eyes. "Should I just assume that's you, Avery? Or do I seriously have to jump up in _en garde_ mode— despite the fact that my head feels like it's just been split opened?"

"I'd go for the second. I'm actually a hired assassin." The deep and rough voice managed to startle the woman into a full standing position. She relaxed her shoulders and exhaled slowly when she saw it was only her best friend and colleague disguising his voice. The white of his teeth almost gleamed as he smiled childishly, despite the lack of lighting in the room.

She closed her eyes and fell back onto the couch. "Geez, Avery! For a split second, you really had me going!"

Avery just shrugged and let out a quick laugh. "Sorry. I just couldn't resist." After flicking the light switch, he walked over to the table beside her and deposited a plastic drugstore bag. "I had a feeling you'd have a headache after that crazy scene at the mall today. I picked up some Aspirin, just in case. How are you feeling?"

Avery had dropped his fake southern accent. Though the British accent was a little stronger, it wasn't strong enough to assume he was born and raised in the UK. It seemed more like a picked up dialect from living in one place for too long. It was most noticeable when he asked questions. Almost the exact same could be said of his female counterpart's slight accent.

"To be honest, Av— I feel like I could sleep for several months without once waking up. What in bloody hell happened today? I mean— everything seemed to be going smoothly until that director distracted us. It was almost like he_ knew_ who we were and he _wanted_ the killer to get away— and what about the hidden sniper?"

"You can add the woman that was held hostage to your suspicion list too. She disappeared before the medics could examine her."

"A-are you kidding? How does someone just get up and walk away after an ordeal like that? Was she an agent too?" She sighed in frustration. "I was almost certain we were several steps ahead of the FBI— but even so, it doesn't seem like the sort of stunt they would pull."

"It definitely wasn't the FBI's doing. I've already spoke with the agent in charge of the case, and he said he had no knowledge of anything going on at the mall. However…" He hesitated.

"However?"

"Think about it, Ari. Who's known for pulling stunts like that while leaving the authorities in the dark? Who's always several steps ahead of the authorities and always manages to produce results— even when the world's investigation bureaus can't?"

With another deep sigh, Ariadne Romani (known only as _Sparrow_ to the authorities) allowed her head to fall back before reapplying the cold rag. "… L."

"That's right. Mr. _High and Mighty_, himself. I managed to learn that L has been following this case as well. It's a case that's had the FBI baffled and the body count is well over two dozen— and those are just the ones that have been recovered. It would only make sense that L was the one behind all the shenanigans at the mall."

"You're right, Av. He apparently had his _own_ set up to expose the Model Mangler— but we ended up ruining each other's plans."

"At the very least, we apprehended the killer."

"Yeah, and my identity was almost exposed in the process. It was supposed to be a clean and quiet operation. All he had to do was lure me out to his van and we could apprehend him— plus have his vehicle in custody. You would have claimed the arrest and I would have been a traumatized victim that narrowly escaped. It didn't turn out that way at all— and I _know_ there were witnesses who saw my face!"

"True, but the FBI is under the impression that you were an undercover pawn of L— just as the director and sniper were. You know that L always uses his own moles to do his work. He likes to find the agents who are on suspension— or fresh out of training and out of work. There're even several who have still yet to be identified as valid agents. I personally vouched that you weren't working for Sparrow."

"That's great… but do you think L will vouch for it?" Everything Ari knew about L was by word of mouth. She had always heard that he was extremely arrogant and generally unlikable. He would have no reason to cover for her. She had interfered with his operation, after all.

Avery appeared as though he wasn't sure if he should smile or frown. "This whole case is being perceived as Sparrow stealing what was supposed to be L's catch. L is getting laughed at right now, so you can probably guess he isn't very happy."

Ari's expression was very similar to Avery's at that moment. She couldn't decide if she should laugh or worry. She eventually combined the two and released a very quick and nervous laugh. "Opps." She suddenly felt the urge to get up and pace. "Why do I have this gut feeling that L isn't going to let this go so easily?"

Avery walked over to Ari and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're worrying too much right now. It's been a really long day— and I'm about to starve— so why don't we go grab something to eat. It'll take your mind off of things."

Ari sighed, but smiled. "I'm pretty hungry myself. I wonder what sort of restaurants they have around here?"

Avery narrowed his eyes a bit and looked up, as if contemplating. "This place strikes me as a 'meat and potatoes' sort of town. I don't think you'll find one of your vegetarian friendly restaurants anywhere near by."

"I'm a little too hungry to settle for a salad. How about an Italian restaurant? I could go for a brick oven pizza— pineapple and black olives!"

"Sounds good to me."

"Great! Just give me a chance to change out of this stupid spring dress, and we're all set."

"Aww, but you look so cute!" Avery made it sound like he was talking to a cuddly puppy dog. His eyes grew big, and he made sure to make 'look' sound more like 'wook'.

Ari responded by picking up a decorative pillow from the couch and throwing at him; though she did so with a playful smile. "Give me 10 minutes and I'll be ready to go."

"Sounds good. I'll go and get changed, myself. Then I'll Google the local dining facilities."

Ari smiled at him before turning to her luggage to retrieve another outfit. "Great! I'll see you in ten minutes then!"

As luck would have it, they managed to find a small family-owned Italian restaurant three blocks from the hotel. Ari was a strict vegetarian, but not a vegan. She was too fond of cheese cake and pizza to give up dairy products. They were both childhood favorites of hers.

They were no longer trying to pass as a stereotypical small town couple. The accents they sported were now genuinely their own. Avery was wearing khaki pants with a dark blue v-neck shirt. Ari was dressed in black cargos and a well fitted black and white ringer t-shirt. She wore her waist long blonde hair down, with the longer strands tucked behind her ear.

She wouldn't have stood out so much, except for the fact that her head sported a knit hat that screamed intensely bright shades of orange, purple and green. Avery looked up at it every now and then with narrowed eyes. He didn't appear fond of it. "That's a… _nice_ hat. I don't believe I've ever seen that one before. Is it a new one?"

Ari sipped her tea and moved her eyes upward, as though she were trying to look at the hat he was referring to. "Are you going to lecture me about the clash of the colors?"

Avery tucked in his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes a little more. After a few seconds, he slowly shook his head. "Not at all. I think, however… I like the florescent yellow and sky blue one better."

Even though Avery was wearing his usual smile, Ari knew him well enough to know his true level of sincerity. "Oh, that one? I didn't realize you liked it. It's actually a little big for me. It always falls over my eyes. Why don't you take it— since you like it so much?"

"Nonsense; I bet it'll shrink in the wash."

"No, it'll just get ruined. You know I'm not good with laundry."

"There's nothing wrong with a ruined eyesore." Avery always enjoyed teasing Ari about her collection of loud and colorful knit hats. She was almost never seen without one unless she was working. In order to avoid a starting a food fight with the appetizer plate, Ari stuck her tongue out at him and left it at that.

It wasn't a very busy night for the restaurant. Ari guessed everyone was at home— glued to the local news. She had overheard a couple of the waitresses talking about the incident at the mall. It wasn't often such a crazy event happened in the city of Noridal. It would be talked about for months. The lack of a crowd wasn't a bad thing, however. It gave Ari and Avery a little more freedom of conversation.

"Do you think he saw everything, Av?"

Avery didn't have to ask who she was talking about. "It's very possible. I checked out the mall security yesterday and noticed that the only security cameras were inside of the stores. The mall ways and parking areas aren't under any surveillance at all."

"That doesn't mean anything though."

"No, it doesn't. Not when it comes to _him_."

Ari hesitated sharing her next thought. "You know, even though things didn't go exactly as planned; I still can't help but feel a little exhilarated that we were actually able to keep up with the greatest detective in the world."

Avery grinned from ear to ear. "It _is_ exciting, isn't it? We're moving up on the chain."

"Yeah… but I don't want it to make us lose focus on why we do this."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it. You didn't get into this field of work in hopes of achieving high rank. I could never see you battling out a detective war for the sole purpose of reaching number 1 and claiming the power of it. But that doesn't make it wrong or out of character to be happy about your accomplishments. You have every right to be proud of yourself. It's only natural. It's human."

Avery's words managed to make Ari feel better about the small ego trip that nipped at the back of her mind, but there was also an uneasiness inside of her that she couldn't dismiss as quickly. It was pretty much a given that L was now aware of her, and she had no doubt that he would be curious enough to start prying. She had exposed herself to the one person in the world who could expose her identity faster than any agency or organization.

Ari despised the thought of being in the public eye. She knew just as well as L that such a thing could be hazardous to a well established detective's health. It would also make her less effective. A lioness hunting for antelope was a lot more likely to catch one if none of the antelope knew she was there. If the lioness is invisible, then there's seemingly nothing to run from.

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><p>It was dark by the time they returned to the hotel. Ari was exhausted, and ready for some much needed sleep. She said goodnight to Avery for the evening before retrieving to her room. After going through the day to day redundancies of using the restroom and brushing her teeth; she ran a hot bath and tuned the radio on the hotel alarm clock to a classical radio station. For the next hour, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of Chopin and Mozart.<p>

As she soaked in her ridiculously hot bath water, she reviewed the Model Mangler case in her mind. As always, Avery had played as her public figure. It enabled him to gain access to the morgues that held all of the victims. Once Avery made his lawful entries, he would let Ari in through a not so lawful entry. The clues that had been left behind were almost impossible to decipher. Both Ari and Avery had spent countless hours observing the notes they had taken. It wasn't easy in the least, and it had managed to create many ill moods. The very nature of the murders and the conditions of the bodies made Ari lose many of her meals when she thought about them.

After several re-examinations of some of the bodies, Ari was finally able to find one of the clues that L had found. From there, she had a better feel of what to look for with the other corpses. It wasn't long before she was able to pick up on the killer's trail. The clues he left behind gave away more and more with each fresh corpse left behind.

Just has L had done, she used them to create a valid profile and track down his movements. Ari had managed to stay ahead of the FBI. She had been only half a step behind L; and that distance was closed the second the Model Mangler arrived in the small city of Noridal.

Now it was over. The killer had been apprehended, and it was now up to the justice system to make sure he never prowled the streets again. Ari pulled the plug in the bathtub and went though several more usual routines. She dried off, applied deodorant, put on her pajamas and wrapped a towel around her wet hair.

As soon as she came out of the bathroom, she lazily made her way to the bed and fell onto it. The radio sounded a lot louder now that she wasn't surrounded by the bathroom walls. As she debated whether or not she had enough energy to reach over and turn it off, a synthetic voice suddenly rang over the music. "If you intend on falling asleep, I'd recommend lowering the volume of your radio first. It's only a matter of time before the occupants of the neighboring rooms start complaining. Not that Bach is that difficult to sleep through."

Ari bolted up in alarm. "W-what the- who?" She spun around the room franticly. No one was there, but there _was_ a new component in her room that she hadn't previously noticed. An opened laptop sat in the center of the small desk on the far side of the room. The screen was completely white— save for the Cloister Black letter L on the screen.

Ari covered her face with her hands, leaving her eyes visibility to see. It wasn't an attempt to hide her face, but rather a reaction of shock. "How… how did you—?"

"I'm not one who enjoys listening to people stutter, so I'll take control of the introduction. As you might have already guessed, I am L. Perhaps you could be so kind as to tell me who _you_ are."


	3. Nice to Meet You Too

**Death Note does not belong to us!**

**A/N: This chapter is a little short. I decided to leave one of the scenes for the next chapter since I'm taking so long to get these posted. My RL has been so completly crazy— not in a good way. It doesn't help that I'm also working on another fanfic on my main account right now. I shouldn't have tried starting two projects at once. Anyway, I hope this chapter is enjoyable. Ari and L are about to interact for the first time! Happy reading! ^_^ **

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><p>The only sound in the room was the steady stream of Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. As if time had suddenly decided to stand still, Ariadne Romani stood stiffly in the center of her hotel room, gawking at the alien laptop that had somehow managed to find its way to the desk. Ari had been completely unprepared for what she was seeing. The mysterious detective, known only as 'L' had somehow tracked her down, infiltrated her hotel room, and planted his own communication device.<p>

She shouldn't have been surprised. L was known for this sort of thing. What really sent chill bumps down her spine was the fact that he had caught her in such a candid moment. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel, and she was in her pajamas. She secretly hoped he didn't have any visual devices in the room. There was a 'joke' circulating around the detective community that L had voyeuristic tendencies.

For all she knew he could have installed cameras in the bathroom. Without even realizing it, she suddenly crossed her arms, as if she were topless and exposed. Her cheeks flushed. _'Please, please, please don't let that voyeur joke be true!' _

He had asked her in a rather rude way to introduce herself. When there was no answer from her end, the synthetic voice decided to taunt her. "I suppose there's no harm in your silence. Actually, there's really no reason for you to introduce yourself. I already know who you are in terms of codename, and I could find out your real name and history in a matter of minutes—provided I find that you're worthy of such attention."

Ari's open mouth slowly closed and turned into a frown as her eyes narrowed. "So it's true what they say about you then. You really _are_ arrogant and unlikable."

"So it's true. You really _can _talk." The synthetic voice was mocking her. "_Sparrow_— that's very typical for a female codename. If you were truly serious about keeping your identity a secret, you would have picked a name that masked your gender at the very least."

"And how do you know I'm Sparrow? Maybe my colleague and I are only _working_ for Sparrow. There were obviously unidentified agents at the mall who were working for _you_!" Ari couldn't think straight. She couldn't believe she was being intimidated by a letter on a computer screen— an armchair detective who was too much of a coward to show himself in person_. 'No! Damn it! I can't call him a coward for that because I basically do the same thing! Damn you, L!'_

A brief silence followed before L replied. "I already have in my possession footage from the mall that shows you making your escape before the police arrived. Your boyfriend worked under an alias that placed him as one of Sparrow's investigators; but if my hunch is correct, he is actually your right hand man and key public figure— known only as Ringo. His appearance is strikingly different from what the authorities are used to seeing, but his apparent closeness to you as well as his ability to wrap up the loose ends of criminal processing and paperwork on Sparrow's behalf— a job normally reserved for Ringo alone— it's really all too obvious. You are Sparrow and your boyfriend is Ringo."

Ari's mind was racing several hundred miles an hour. L had figured it out with minimal effort. Had the name of Sparrow never taken the credit for apprehending the killer, perhaps he wouldn't have— no. L would have still figured out that she was Sparrow and Avery was Ringo. She tried very hard to maintain a cool and collected composure. It normally wasn't a difficult task for her, but L was pushing the wrong buttons. "You're lying about the cameras. The only security cameras at that mall were inside of stores."

"You obviously aren't familiar with my voyeuristic reputation. The cameras were my own— installed in less than two hours and removed just as quickly."

Ari balled up her fists and stomped her foot on the floor in frustration. "Okay, fine! You want a name to address me by; then it is indeed 'Sparrow'! You figured it out! Congratulations, your highness! What do you want, L? What gives you the right to intrude on me like this? Are you going to threaten me with those security tapes just because I was the one who cuffed the bad guy?"

"It would appear you're starting to panic. I assure you, there's no need. I have no interest in revealing your identity— provided you accept the fact that you would have never apprehended your suspect had it not been for my own tactics. In fact, you were merely an inconvenience in my way. Because of you, the killer was apprehended before he could lead us to the true crime scene. That's hardly anything to be proud of."

Ari jumped on the defense. "T-there's already plenty of evidence for the prosecution to have that man sentenced to death! You, yourself uncovered most of it! There wasn't any point in uncovering the locations! The disclosure of such scenes would have only made things harder for the families of the victims!" Why would L actually _want_ a sadistic killer to abduct a woman so she could be subjected to God only knows what sorts of abuse— all for the sake of solving a puzzle?

"Evidence that holds up in a court of law has never been a concern of mine. I uncover what is needed to finish the puzzle— to answer each and every unanswered question. The stab wounds on one of the victims indicated a map of great significance. The geometric measurements of the wounds on the chest revealed the estimated distance between each point. All I needed to find was _one_ to uncover them all. Do you really think he'll reveal any of those locations now that he's in custody?"

"Who cares? You were willing to take the chance of losing one of your own people just so you could solve the full puzzle, even though it wasn't even necessary! I'm sorry; but after all of this, I think I've lost a great deal of the respect I originally had for you!"

"I can see now that we're not on the same page. I was curious to see if I could consider you a useful tool in the future, but you're obviously nothing but a bother. I'll have to advise you not to get in my way in the future. I shall agree to keep your identity concealed if you can agree to that condition."

"I was in your way? And you don't think you ruined my plans as well?" Ari ran his words through her mind over and over again. _'I could consider you a useful tool in the future… A 'useful tool'… but you're obviously nothing but a bother... 'a bother'... the very nerve!_'

L ignored her defensive statement. "I believe it would be in your best interest to stick to afternoon tea parties with your boyfriend. This field of work isn't meant for little girls, such as yourself. It was very nice meeting you and I thank you for your time." Before Ari could say anything, the screen went black.

Ari stood motionless in the middle of the room. Slowly, her eyes closed as she inhaled a deep breath and silently counted to ten. The encounter with L had left her face flushed with anger. She glared at the computer. _'There's no way he's going to just leave this computer here. I'd like to see him try and take it! I could confiscate it and_—_' _

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. On full alert, Ari made sure she was armed before she answered. Her eyes widened when she saw the director of the modeling show standing there and smiling— just as casually as if he were visiting his best buddy.

Aiber wasted no time. "Hello there. You know, in all the commotion today, you dropped your gift certificate." He pulled the envelope with the certificate out of his shirt pocket and handed it to her.

Ari jerked it out of his hand and threw it on the floor— to which Aiber replied "Oh come on, I know it's a shit store, but it's still free."

"I know that's not the reason you're here." She glared hard and pointed the gun at him as a warning.

Aiber frowned. "Is this the way you treat all of your visitors? You're actually right. I'm here to reclaim the laptop."

"Oh, is that yours?" Ari snarled in sarcasm. "Well, it just happened to somehow walk into my room while I was in the bath, so I'm going to assume it likes me better. I think I'll keep it."

"I really do need it back."

"Well, you're not getting it."

"You really aren't very nice, are you? Most of the pretty ones aren't. That must make you a rare exception to the rule."

The way Aiber worded it made Ari want to shoot him right there. "You can tell L to go screw himself! He's not going to order me around and _you're_ not getting this computer!"

Aiber tried looking defeated, rolling his eyes up and sighing. "Well… if you're really going to be such a bitch about it, then I guess I stand defeated. I really hope you decide to use that gift certificate. I took a slap to the face for that damn thing."

Remembering the moment at the mall when she had slapped him in the face, she went on the defense—briefly forgetting about the current heat of the moment. "Look, I apologized for that! I don't take kindly to men sneaking up on me and grabbing me from behind!" She lowered her gun.

"All I did was touch your shoulder to get your attention. You make it sound like I groped you." Aiber arched his eyebrow in half astonishment.

"Okay, you know what? This is just ridiculous. I'm about to slam the door in your face."

Aiber cut his eyes to the side and smirked— slightly tilting his head. "Very well then, fearless vixen. I shall gladly make my exit. I'd much rather talk to that other cute little blonde anyway." He winked at her and walked away. Ari closed the door, feeling victorious that she had stood her ground and refused the man her 'new' laptop. _'I've got to go get Avery and tell him what just happened!' _She turned around with great haste to get changed— only to find that the laptop had vanished.

* * *

><p>From the ninth floor of an upscale hotel, a pair of tired eyes peered out the window. It wasn't clear if he was just enjoying the view of the lights contrasting against the night sky, or if he was simply lost in his own thoughts. L always made sure to ask for hotel rooms that were at least six stories off of the ground. The top floor was always his first choice when requesting a room. He always had to have a window that overlooked the rest of the area. Only L knew the reasoning behind this. Watari had never asked about it; but rather assumed it was really just a matter of personal preference.<p>

The muffled sound of his cell phone broke the silence. His face didn't turn away from the window as he fished it out of his pocket and held it up to his ear in the usual delicate manner. "Yes?"

"Aiber and Wedy have returned from their assignment. Do you wish to see them?"

"Yes, Watari. Please, send them up." As L ended the call, he let out a small sigh that was barely audible. It had been a very long day, and the bright lights that lit up the city weren't bringing him the tranquility he was hoping for.

The door to his room opened a little less than five minutes later. Watari escorted the thief and con-artist into the room and cleared his throat slightly to get L's attention— who had not bothered to turn away from the window.

Aiber was the first to speak. "Mission accomplished, boss… sort of."

L spoke in a monotone voice without turning around to face who he was addressing. "You recovered the laptop from the girl's room?"

Wedy answered this time. "It was child's play. Aiber kept her distracted and she never even knew I was there."

"That's wonderful news." There was no trace of enthusiasm in L's reply. "I thank you for your assistance." He still hadn't turned away from the window.

His words were followed by a silent tension that filled the entire room. Aiber opened his mouth to say something, but decided it wouldn't be the best time after glancing at the expression on Wedy's face. Almost a full minute passed before anymore words were spoken. "Not that I'm trying to sound ungrateful for your gratitude, but I think you owe me more of an apology than a pat on the back for a job well done."

Another moment of uncomfortable silence followed before L replied."Watari… Aiber… I would like to have a word with Wedy in private."

Watari simply nodded and headed for the door. Aiber couldn't help but grin slyly. "Is it time for make-up sex?"

Wedy responded by slapping Aiber across the face. "Don't even _try_ and take it there, Aiber! I wouldn't touch that man if he were the only one left in existence!"

Aiber rubbed his cheek and frowned. "Talk about an off day! That's the second time a woman has raised a hand to—" Aiber decided not to finish when he noticed L was slowly turning around—slouching over with his hands tucked away in his pockets. His dark eyes zoned in on Aiber from an angle. "Aiber, please re-enter the room in five minutes. I will need to speak with the two of you as a unit before I dismiss you."

"Right." With that, Aiber made a quick exit.

Once the other two had left, Wedy stood sulking with her arms crossed— watching L study her in silence. "Well… are you going to say whatever it is that you wanted to say? The second hand keeps on moving. It's not going to stop, not even for you."

The gaps of silence were starting to drive Wedy crazy. Just when she thought she would explode and storm out of the room, L decided to speak. "The events of today were unexpected."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock! But you know what? Even if that couple hadn't had interfered, I would still be in that madman's hands by orders of _you_! I may be tough and l may walk down a dangerous road more often than not, L— but willingly delivering myself to a sadistic serial killer? You don't give a damn about the safety of me or Aiber! All you care about is getting results, no matter what the cost! If I had any sense, I'd drag your cold hearted ass straight to the FBI and expose the man behind the letter. What would you think of that, monkey boy?"

L appeared indifferent to her rant. "I don't recall forcing you to accept the job." He sluggishly started walking over to her. "It was my original intention for you to leave the premises with the suspect. I would have had you back before he had the chance to cause you serious physical harm. I made sure you had an escape tool in case anything went wrong."

"—which I couldn't get to because he knocked me over the head and held a knife to my throat!" Wedy finished the scenario for him. "You can't tell me you didn't even consider the possibility of something like that happening!"

L was only a foot away from her now. His eyes tore holes thorough her own. "Had I not considered it, then Watari obviously wouldn't have been on the roof." L then did something that completely shocked Wedy. He put his hand on her shoulder. L normally didn't do that sort of thing. Wedy was so stunned; she couldn't find any more words to continue the argument.

He had lowered his head so that he was now staring at the floor. Wedy could no longer see his eyes for all of the messy hair that had fallen over them, but she swore she could hear the faintest of sighs. "I'm sorry." He said the words as if they were a foreign language he had just learned.

Wedy wasn't sure how to reply, but she knew without a doubt that L was truly being sincere. He didn't have to look her in the face to prove it. In fact, it was just the opposite. If anyone was good at looking people straight in the eye and lying, it was L. He did it so he could see reactions. One thing he couldn't seem to do, however; was look people in the face when he _wasn't_ lying— the reason more than likely being because he _didn't_ want to see a reaction.

Almost as soon as he had said it, his hand pulled away from her shoulder and returned to the pocket in his jeans. L strolled over to a sofa and perched himself on it. "Though the likelihood of me sending you on more dangerous assignments is definite, you will never again be asked to put yourself in a situation similar to the events that perspired today."

The conversation ended right there, because their five minutes were up. There was a knock on the door. It was time for Aiber and Watari to re-enter the room. L remained perched on the sofa as the others gathered around him. Aiber had entered with the intentions of making another reference to sex, but Wedy's death glare quickly made him change his mind.

"As the three of you are aware, our plans to apprehend the Model Mangler and uncover his bolt holes were foiled today by another detective, known as _Sparrow_." L narrowed his eyes in annoyance as he said the name. "Though she's a far cry from surpassing the world's top three detectives, her ability to stay ahead of the FBI in this case is very impressive."

"You say that as if it irks the hell out of you. You shouldn't have let her take the credit for the catch." Aiber took a seat in one of the lounge chairs and rested his feet on the coffee table.

"She interfered with my operation, which resulted in the failure to locate the killer's houses of torture. I had no other choice but to let her take the credit. My main concern was making sure the three of you could leave without being noticed."

'_If that's the reason, then maybe I was wrong about L not caring. Maybe he really does give a damn about the safety of his employees.'_ Wedy looked down slightly. "Didn't I hear her say the courts already had enough evidence for a conviction?" Wedy had hidden within the hotel room during L's conversation with Ari.

L looked up at the ceiling briefly, though his expression didn't change. "You mean the evidence that won't get thrown out of court? The only solid evidence that connects that man to the killings right now are the solutions to the puzzles that he left on the bodies of the victims. In order to make sense of it and come to the conclusion that a guilty verdict is the _right_ verdict, the jury will have to decipher the clues that the FBI could not. Do you really think that sounds realistic?"

Watari tried to offer a solution. "Couldn't you give a written statement explaining what the messages found on the corpses mean?"

"I'm afraid that would be the equivalent of a professor trying to explain an advanced calculus equation to a student who has yet to even study basic algebra."

"You're assuming the jury will be compiled of morons." Wedy rolled her eyes.

"I'd say the chances are 98%."

"I also heard you tell that woman that you weren't concerned about evidence for the court. You just wanted to finish the puzzle for your own personal amusement."

"My statement was only half true. There's no point in me wasting my time solving cases if I can't produce the proper evidence required for a conviction. Having _enough_ evidence isn't practical if you consider the little tricks defense attorney's use to get certain items thrown out. An _overwhelming_ amount is always the key. If we could have found one torture shack, we would have had the coordinates for the other ones as well. The evidence found in those locations would have painted a clearer picture to the jury of what this man was doing. I'm also certain that a surplus of physical evidence would have been discovered to seal a conviction."

Aiber ran his hand through his hair. "And because of that couple, all the court has are pictures of grotesque corpses to study. No murder weapon or DNA evidence… what the hell were they thinking?"

"They were more concerned about getting him off of the streets— the sooner he's arrested, the sooner the killings stop."

"Humanitarian detectives?"

"It certainly appears that way. In future operations, we'll need to keep a close eye out for other investigators. We don't need a repeat of what happened today. In the meantime, I have the headache of retrieving our killer long enough to interrogate him. There's still a very small chance he may give away a clue that leads us to what we're looking for."

"On a lighter note, Sparrow is definitely a cutie. She reminds me of Wedy." Aiber looked over at Wedy and winked.

"You want me to slap you again, don't you?"

"I could go for getting slapped around for awhile, if you're interested in that sort of thing."

"Maybe next time, you'll get a fist instead of a palm."

L interrupted Aiber and Wedy's bickering. "If we're finished here, you two may be excused from my room. I'm craving shortcake right now, and the coffee has yet to be brewed. I fear things could soon get very ugly."

Watari took the hint that it was time to start the coffee, and Wedy and Aiber took the hint that the meeting was over. After the two were gone, Watari made sure that L was fully stocked with cake and coffee. As the city around him gradually slowed down to rest for the evening, the world's greatest detective prepared himself for another all-nighter.

* * *

><p><strong>I wanted to thank you guys for the reviews. They really mean a lot! I also wanted to thank you for your patience! I'm hoping to pick up the pace with my updates soon, provided things calm down a little here at home. See you next chapter! ^_^<strong>


	4. Interrogation Methods

**Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note!**

* * *

><p>It was a typical cloudy day in London. The streets were alive with people hurrying to work or running the usual errands. Random shouts of people calling to each other were barely audible against the sounds of construction and maintenance sights. Radios blared from passing cars as their drivers pounded on the horns at times. Sirens could be heard every so often in the distance. Every sound, save for silence, could be heard in the hustle and bustle of day to day life. The slow, dark sound of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata could barely be heard by those who dined at the Happy Garden Thai restaurant. A customer would have to be looking for it to recognize it. They would have had to hear past the eastern world music that vibrated through the restaurant's speakers— paying close attention to the faint sound coming from two stories above.<p>

On the top floor of the three story Happy Garden establishment was a cozy three bedroom flat. It was spacious enough— three beds, two baths, a kitchen and a living room. The living room had numerous windows, but there wasn't enough light in the London sky to liven it up on this day. The cloudy day seemed to fit Ari's mood perfectly. In a lost daze, she closed her eyes as her fingers stroked the keys of her baby grand piano. It was a favorite pastime of hers that always managed to sooth her forever racing mind. She would often play for hours, completely oblivious to any other distractions that the city streets outside offered. The eerie piece she was currently playing could tell a story of her current state of mind. Her encounter with L had left her flustered.

Avery had heard all about it on the plane ride home— twice. He also heard the story an additional time during breakfast. He was almost grateful when she sat down at her piano to play. Avery tensed up whenever she stopped playing— almost certain each time that she was ready to relay the story to him again. _'I think it's safe to say I have it memorized.' _It was now afternoon tea time (a local tradition that Ari and Avery had grown fond of). He moved his head in time with the music while he prepared the tray. As he pulled the hot kettle off of the stove and poured the boiling water in the teapot, he heard a loud and abrupt bang on the piano keys. His head cowered down slightly, eyes narrowing. _'That can't be good.'_

He placed the teapot on the tray— along with two cups, cream and sugar. Taking a deep breath, he slowly carried it into the living room. Ari was no longer seated at the piano. She was lazily sitting back in one of the lounge chairs, staring at the ceiling with a forlorn look on her face. She didn't appear to notice Avery setting the tea tray on the coffee table in front of her and taking a seat on the couch. Avery poured some water into his teacup. "You know… I can't help but wonder if the blonde guy is actually—you know— L." It was just a sudden thought he decided to throw on the table in order to break the silence.

"No." Ari didn't take any notice of the tea. "I don't think that guy was L. L knows it would be the most obvious conclusion that people would jump to. He wouldn't play out an obvious scenario like that."

"You mean… like we do. We use disguises and aliases to solve our cases in person. Every time thus far, we've managed to portray ourselves as little more than pawns of Sparrow."

"That might be true, but this is L we're talking about here. Sparrow doesn't attract the amount of attention that he does. Every criminal (as well as police organization) in the world is trying to uncover his identity. Even if he went out in disguise— like we do— he would be risking too much." Ari finally sat up and acknowledged the tea tray in front of her. "Thanks for the tea, Ave."

Avery smiled in reply. "Good point— but… if L happens to be a guy…"

Ari arched her eyebrow. "Go on."

"Being a guy myself, I can go ahead and tell you that men tend to take crazy chances— the more at risk, the better. We crave the adrenaline rush— the thrill. It's just a side effect of the endless supply of testosterone that runs through us. If L is in fact a male— and I think it's pretty obvious he is— then I'm willing to bet anything there have been situations where he's put himself at the scene without anyone ever realizing it. If his urge is strong enough, nothing is going to stop him."

The corner of Ari's mouth twitched. She decided to question her partner's seemingly sexist theory. "So you're saying every single male is like that? No exceptions. You're not like— oh, wait. Yeah, that describes you perfectly. You wouldn't be here in the UK chasing dangerous criminals with me otherwise. "

Avery grinned at her slyly before taking a sip of his tea. "See what I mean? It's in our biological make-up. Even the most laid back guy has it hidden inside of him somewhere. It's just a matter of finding the right stimuli."

Ari still looked a little unsure. "I think I'll need to observe the behavior of a significant number of random men before I can agree with you."

Again, another huge grin from Avery. "You have no idea how dirty that sounds."

Ari picked up a couch pillow and tossed it at him playfully. Thankfully, he wasn't holding his teacup at that point. "Oh, stop. The only reason it sounds dirty is because you're a—"

"A guy?"

Though her mouth dropped slightly, her teeth revealed themselves in a smile. "That is so not fair, Avery!"

"Got you! Got you to smile!" Triumph was all over his face.

Ari laughed and shook her head. "You never fail me, Ave."

The lightened mood went back to serious as they finished up their first cup of tea. Ari's frowned slightly. "How in the world are we going to avoid crossing paths with L in the future?"

Avery looked up as he thought out loud. "Well… L only takes cases he has personal interest in— most of which are cases that the higher agencies deem 'unsolvable'. If he accepts any other case at all, there are certain criteria that the case has to meet…"

"—which would be: A-the body count is over ten or B- there's over a million dollars to be earned."

"That's right. His conditions for accepting a case are naturally a lot different than our own."

"He's honestly in this field of work for his own personal amusement, isn't he?" She sounded disappointed. L was the world's greatest detective. He was supposed to be a mentor to other detectives, not a bully to be avoided.

"It sure seems that way." Avery poured himself another cup of tea. "If you really want to cower down and stay out of his way, it shouldn't be that hard to avoid him. You want to know what's really funny, though?"

"What?"

"The last thing he said to you."

Ari looked a little puzzled. Avery stirred a sugar cube into his tea as he continued. "You told me he said that this field of work isn't for little girls, and that you should stick to afternoon tea parties with your boyfriend— which is supposed to be me. When you listen to yourself talk about how you need to avoid interfering with his cases and then look at what we're currently doing…" He made a slight motion at the tea tray. "…I think it's hilarious." His boyish grin never left his face.

Ari's eyes trailed down to the tea tray. The tea bags and sugar cubes where stacked so neatly beside the white teapot with ceramic blue flowers. The bottoms of the matching tea cups were lined with gold. The only thing missing were a few stuffed animals for guests. It was a proper little girl's dream. That was the way she had been raised, after all— to be 'proper'. Ari's face suddenly turned red. Half of it was embarrassment; the other half— anger. She tucked her bottom lip under her teeth and silently counted to four before releasing it. "You're right, Avery. That really is hilarious— just bloody hilarious." The very nerve of L accurately predicting something as simple as afternoon tea time— and wording it the way he did! The emotion disappeared from her face as she fell into a state of determined thought. Ari poured herself another cup of tea before she shared it out loud.

"You know what, Ave?" She suddenly smiled softly. "Screw L. Sparrow isn't going to tuck her tale between her legs just because the 12th letter of the alphabet is being a childish bully. We're going to continue to take the cases that matter. If it happens to be one L is working on, too bad. As long as the bad guys are brought to justice, and the safety of potential future victims is sealed, that's all that really matters in the end. Maybe we'll even solve a case _before_ him. He could use a good kick in the ego."

Avery extended his arm and patted her on the side of her shoulder. "Now you're starting to sound like yourself again." His smile was contagious.

Ari wore her newly infected smile and sighed. "Like I said earlier, Ave— you never fail me."

* * *

><p>"Ewan McCorkel, is the suspect in place for his interrogation?"<p>

Ewan McCorkel was a rookie agent for the FBI. Though he had only been part of the force for a little over four months, he had been singled out by L as an agent who was worthy to work under direct orders from the world's greatest detective. It was a complete mystery to the agency as to why L would make such a decision, but it wasn't surprising.

L hardly ever requested assistance from senior agents. Instead, he preferred the underdogs— the ones who normally steered away from the methodical operations of agency code. Ewan didn't have any outstanding qualities that stood out about him. He was just an average guy who blended in with the crowd. He stood 5'7", dark brown hair— oily, but short and well groomed. His brown eyes matched the shade of his hair perfectly. His build was a little bulky, but most of his bulk was muscle. His GPA in college had been average. At age 24, Ewan was a very young agent with a lot to learn.

It had come as a complete shock to him when the head of the FBI called him into his office. "McCorkel…" he had said, "You've been assigned to a very important assignment— one that will no doubt earn you a reasonable amount of recognition on this force."

"Umm… would that be a positive or negative sort of recognition?"

"Not completely positive, considering who has requested your services. He normally likes picking out the misfits. However, it isn't without merit. You wouldn't have been picked at all if you didn't possess some sort of special quality that will prove useful in solving difficult cases in the future."

Ewan was completely lost. "Who exactly is '_he'_?" Ewan had never heard of L.

"That's right, you haven't been with the agency long enough to learn about L."

"L?"

"Yes. He's an ace detective who serves as our trump card. No one knows his true identity, but he is the best out there. He has tackled some of the world's most difficult cases— ones that seemed unsolvable. He has no unsolved cases on his record— not one. Every single time, he manages to uncover all the pieces of the puzzle. No defense team stands a chance against the overwhelming evidence he manages to produce for prosecution teams. He never leaves an unanswered question. As I said, he is the best of the best."

Ewan was only half interested at that point. "So what does that have to do with me? If he's the world's greatest detective, then why is he requesting my services? I haven't even been here six months and all I do is fill out paperwork."

"Because we have direct access to a suspect that needs to be questioned— you're little more than L's assistant to Watari."

"Watari?"

"Watari is the only one who knows how to contact L. We've been trying to follow his movements for several years in hopes of uncovering more information about L, but he manages to give us the slip every time. He's always aware of his surroundings, and he apparently has some sort of device that scrambles our tracking devices."

"I'm afraid I still don't know what it is I'm supposed to do." Ewan was the kind of guy who liked getting to the point.

"I need you to escort the prisoner into a conditioned interrogation room while Watari sets up his communication device. Watari will explain the conditions of the interrogation. You will be required to sit in for the duration of the interview in order to assure the safety of both Watari as well as the suspect. L is known for using outlandish interrogation tactics. I need you to make sure things don't get out of hand."

Ewan didn't see how sitting through an interrogation could earn him any recognition in his career. He seemed less than thrilled. Now, two days later, he sat in a ridiculously small room that was barely big enough to fit a table and chair. Somehow, someone had managed to get the rectangular table to fit. The walls had been stripped down to the concrete, and there was no air vent. It made the room unbearable stuffy. The ceiling was lined with high wattage bright lights, which made the heat even more unbearable than the lack of air. It was appropriately known as the 'heat room'. On one side of the wall was a window that could not be seen through. It obviously linked to the observing room. There were a few speakers mounted up in each corner— small cameras beneath two of them. With the table and chair covering most of the area in the room, there was no way the room could comfortably fit anymore than two people.

Ewan stood by the door uncomfortably, feeling a little claustrophobic. A line of sweat was starting to accumulate across his brow from the suffocating heat. The suspect was restrained to the chair— arms handcuffed behind and legs shackled to the chair legs. Because he was dressed in a thermal jumpsuit, he was sweating a lot more than Ewan. Ewan wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he swore he could hear a slight ringing coming from the speakers. It was just barely audible, but it was high pitch— and constant. It was then that Ewan began to understand why the man in the long black coat had given him a set of earplugs before he entered the room. He toyed around with the idea of retrieving them from his pocket.

It was over half an hour before a synthetic voice boomed through the speaker. ""Ewan McCorkel, is the suspect in place for his interrogation?"

Annoyed with the long wait, Ewan shot back. "Why, are you're camera's not working?"

"Very well then; Watari, if you would, please connect me to the main circuit of the 'heat room' cameras." Forty two seconds of silence passed. "Ah, there you are. Now that I can see you—"

"Hey, I hate to interrupt, but wasn't there supposed to be a third person in here? Not that I'm complaining or anything." Ewan wasn't aware that L didn't like to be interrupted. If he _did_ know, he probably wouldn't have cared.

"The third party is in the observation room. It's much cooler and roomier in there, I imagine." L made sure to throw that last piece of unneeded information in. "You are present for this interrogation because you are, in a sense, my dog."

"E-excuse me?"

"Our man in custody is about to throw something very important. Your job is to fetch it for me. You are, in short, L's dog."

Insulted, Ewan grunted. "Now just a damn minute, I'm not—"

"Mr. McCorkel, if you please, I have work to do. Moving right along…" L's attention turned to the suspect. "Charles Q. Emmeson, AKA the Model Mangler— are you comfortable?"

The man in the chair looked up at one of the cameras and glared. He was drenched in his own sweat. "Fuck you."

"Uneducated, I see. You're vocabulary is obviously limited. I suppose that makes sense." L had wasted no time pushing the man's buttons. He knew from a basic profile that the subject saw his intelligence as superior. Insulting that alleged intelligence was one of L's best tactics.

Just as L had suspected, the man had a response. His voice was cold and collected, yet resentful. "You think that makes sense, huh? I'll have you know my IQ is well over 200. I can outsmart the entire FBI."

"Is that right? Is that why you're presently sitting here, in FBI custody?" L knew the man's intelligence was high, but 200 was a steep exaggeration. Testing had scored the Model Mangler at 134. Though it was very high, he wasn't a genius. There was an 8 point gap that kept him away from the title. Most serial killers had a tendency to skew their IQs— a step that made them see themselves as all the more superior to their victims and the authorities that chased them.

The man quickly lost his composure and jerked violently, growling and grunting in anger. He put so much force into it; the chair fell over, pulling the prisoner down with it. Ewan hadn't moved to try and catch him. In fact, he was leaning against the door with his arms folded. He noticed the high pitch ringing sound was beginning to get gradually louder, but didn't bring it up. The prisoner was now in the floor, moaning in pain. Ewan only stared at him until L gave him an order. "Pick him up, please."

Like an obedient little puppy, Ewan followed orders. _'Shit! I guess I am his dog. It's not like I can do anything else in here, though!' _Ewan decided in that moment he didn't like L.

With a little effort from Ewan, the prisoner was sitting upright again— breathing heavily. Ewan scowled slightly at the man in the chair. _'He should be the damn dog. He's the one panting, after all.' _Ewan couldn't let go of the earlier insult.

"Tell me where your killing shacks are, Mr. Emmeson." L was ready to get to the point.

The man responded by spitting towards one of the cameras. The ringing in the room was slightly louder. Its volume very slowly increased with each passing minute. L could tell the sound was getting to Emmeson.

The synthetic voice continued to taunt the man. "It really is sad, Mr. Emmeson. Several publishers are already discussing writing a book about you, yet all they'll be able to do is speculate about what you _might_ have done to your victims. I imagine your story will fail to even appear on the top 100 list. _I _certainly wouldn't read it. Considering you're stupid enough to _think_ you possess the intelligence to act as your own attorney, the highlight of the book will more than likely depict you as a moron. Who else gets apprehended by a young female model in the middle of a mall parking lot— one from a backward hick town at that? Perhaps the writer will devise a theory to prove your innocence. You couldn't have committed all of those crimes and evaded authority for as long as you did, You simply aren't smart enough."

L could see that he was winning another round. Emmeson had a narcissistic personality. L could actually see the red in the man's face through the grainy cameras. On to the next round— "You look thirsty, Mr. Emmerson. I have provided for you a glass of iced cold water on the table, should you have the need to quench your thirst."

Emmerson stared at the cup of water in front of him. Droplets of condensation slowly traveled down the side of the cup as the ice melted in the hot room. It was barely a foot away from him, but his restraints wouldn't allow him to grab it. He jerked in the chair again. "You sorry fuck!"

"Well, that's no way to thank someone for being hospitable. If you didn't want the drink, all you had to do was say so. At least now, you can't say I never offered."

Ewan was starting to pick up on L's tactics. He had been eyeing the cup of water himself. "Say, if you're not going to drink that, can I have it?"

L answered. "Please, go right ahead. Our friend here obviously isn't thirsty at the moment."

Emmeson watched pitifully as Ewan took the cup and gulped down the water, making sure to let a few drops run down his chin. He set the empty cup on the table and wiped the water from his chin with his sleeve. "Ahh! That was purified water, wasn't it? There's no way tap water tastes that good!"

Emmeson began to stutter. "T-this is just— this is just inhumane!"

"Inhumane, you say? Is that not the very theme of your lifestyle?" The volume of the ringing in the room suddenly began to increase at a greater pace. L gave Ewan the signal to put in his ear plugs. "I believe we are experiencing minor difficulty with the audio. Please stand by while my assistant looks into the issue."

Once Ewan had his earplugs in, he heard the soft sound of the high pitch ring— though it was actually a lot louder and harsher in reality. Emmeson couldn't cover _his_ ears, of course. Five minutes passed before the sound slowly faded back to its original volume. Emmeson was at the point of tears by that point. His head was hanging down as far as it would go.

"I suppose that should be good enough for now. My apologies for the technical inconvenience." Ewan caught the muffled version of L speaking, which prompted him to remove his ear plugs. He almost swore he heard a sob from Emmerson.

Seeing that Emmerson was on the verge of breaking, L began his closing remarks. "I'm very disappointed I couldn't interview someone who actually possessed enough intelligence to carry a decent conversation. It appears everything I've learned about the Model Mangler was little more than lies…" A loud pop suddenly came from the speakers, which made both men in the room almost jump out of their skin. "It appears the sound system isn't getting any better.' The synthetic voice spoke nonchalantly— almost sarcastically. "Charles Emmeson— if you wish to defend your level of intellect, then how about presenting me with a true challenge. I'm very bored and would love a new puzzle. In return, I shall give _you_ a puzzle to solve. Solve it, and perhaps you'll be entitled to free canteen privileges until your trial is over."

"G-go to hell!"

"Very well, I suppose I'll send you back to your cell so you can rot with the other incompetent inmates. I'm sure you're fitting in very nicely. It's actually said that if you stay there long enough, you'll eventually start hearing this strange high pitch ringing. Hmm. I sincerely hope that doesn't happen to you. Oh, and I believe they've cut off the water for the time being in order to fix a busted pipe. The workers have already gone home for the day; you probably won't be given anything to drink until tomorrow. I imagine the other inmates are very angry and hostile over the situation."

Emmeson was smart enough to know that he was being threatened. L was telling him in a very indirect way, "either accept my offer, or I will continue to torture you."

With one final jerk and grunt, the Model Mangler gave in to the synthetic voice. "A puzzle for a puzzle… I'll accept that. There's a group of birds that sit perched on its gate every morning— 10 total. The lonely one always sits in between the last two, though it clearly doesn't belong there. The other birds try to push him back to his proper place in line, but they always end up sitting in the same order each day. Perhaps it's trying to get the best view of the orange grove in the rising sun." He stopped.

"Wonderful. I promise, I shall try and give you an easy one. I wouldn't want you to have to strain your mind anymore than necessary. In fact, it's little more than a crossword puzzle. All you have to do is solve it, and the canteen privileges are yours."

Emmeson snarled. "I'll say it one more time. FUCK YOU! I've tortured and killed over three dozen women in my life; all of which are worth about as much to me as the shit I flush down the toilet every day. If I'm clever and cunning enough to kill that many women before getting caught, then I think I can easily solve a fucking crossword puzzle! Make sure you don't cut it out of the newspaper. I'd like to read the surrounding comics."

L ignored the comment. "Please be warned that if the solution to your puzzle proves to be a phony destination, you shall hear from me again. It isn't something you should look forward to. We're finished here, Mr. McCorkle. Please return the inmate to his cell. Afterward, I would like you to call the number on the card that my assistant gives you. I should have an address for you by then."

Ewan sighed lowly as he prepared to transfer Emmeson. "Right."

By the time Ewan had called the number, L had the address ready. "Hello, Mr. McCorkle. I must say Mr. Emmeson's puzzle was not his finest. I had it figured out before he even finished it. Your flight arraignments have already been made. Your plane will depart tomorrow morning for Florida. Further instructions will await you once you arrive."

"So this is the part where I play fetch, huh?"

"Correct."

"I see."

"You will be provided with a complete address upon you arrival. Once you have confirmed that this address is authentic, I will have the proper coordinates to locate the other locations. This is your opportunity to uncover and process your first true crime scene."

Ewan's eyes grew wide. _'Finally, something exciting!' _He gladly accepted L's orders. "I certainly hope we find what we're looking for, then."

On the other side of the phone connection, L smiled— seemingly at his ice cream sundae. "I don't think they'll ask you to fill out other people's paperwork anymore once you return to your office. I shall contact you again tomorrow. Goodbye."

The call had ended and L was using the break as a snack time opportunity. A call from Watari greeted him just as he had finished drowning his sundae in chocolate syrup. Watari agreed with L right away, "His puzzle was rather unimpressive."

"Indeed, it was. 2314 Birdview Circle. 1+2+3+4 totals 10. The lonely number always perches in between the last two. 1 is only one, therefore it moves out of line and ahead of the three— perhaps to get a better view of the rising Florida sun over the grove of orange trees. A child could figure it out. I suppose he was too stressed to think of something more challenging. Either that, or he's attempting to toy with me."

"And what of the puzzle you promised him?"

"He'll receive a crossword puzzle tomorrow morning. I highly doubt he'll be able to complete it."

"Oh?"

L smirked. "It's the same one B sent to the LAPD during the LABB Murder case."

Watari let out a quick laugh. "B is indeed the true master of puzzles. Even you became frustrated a few times when you started working on it."

"Oh? I'm afraid I don't recall that?"

"Of course you wouldn't." Watari smiled at L's sudden lost memory of frustration. "At any rate, there's another case here in the states that seems to be up your alley. Eleven women have vanished without a trace over a 16 month time period in a Midwestern college town. The police have absolutely nothing to go on aside from the fact that several of the women were employed at different dance clubs. No bodies have been found yet, but the investigators are certain it's the work of a serial killer."

L sighed before stuffing his mouth full of ice cream. "Mmm. Another serial killer— joy. I suppose I'll take a quick look at the file."

L ended the call with Watari and finished his sundae. There were plenty of cases still on the table. His work was never done, but that was the way he liked it. His appetite for finding answers could never seem to be soothed. After a quick stretch and kick routine, he settled down in front of his laptop and requested the file to the case Watari had told him about.

* * *

><p><strong>Willian Police Headquarters<strong>

"This is ridiculous! We have absolutely nothing to work with here!" There was a conference being held in what they called 'the war room'. Several lieutenants and detectives crowded around a meeting table as they watched the Chief of Police pace. "These women that are disappearing aren't exactly stable individuals. Half of them are strippers, for Christ sake! We have no evidence to support that these disappearances are anything more than runaways."

"And what about the missing university girl? She seemed stable enough from her description. Her relationship with her parents was strong and healthy. Her record was clean."

The frustrated Chief stopped pacing long enough to slam his fists on the table. "Bring me a body, Lieutenant! Show me that we have the grounds to connect all of these disappearances!"

"I think it's time the FBI got involved."

The Chief had finally found his composure through a heavy sigh. "Again, we have no case to present to them aside from random missing person reports, all of which are spread out over a period of 16 months. It's going to take a lot more to get the FBI involved."

"Chief… if this disappearances keep happening and we have no leads, I think we should bring in a higher detective."

"One from a private firm, you mean? Do you think we're too incapable of doing this ourselves?" The Chief sounded insulted.

"I just think there's no harm in considering a little help if our citizens keep disappearing without a trace. We have absolutely nothing to go on right now. Maybe we just need someone from the outside— a fresh mind."

The Chief stared his Lieutenant down for a minute. "Alright then. Wasn't the Model Mangler recently brought to justice by an independent detective?"

"Yes Sir. That would be Sparrow. This one is normally based in the UK, but quickly expanding to an international level. Word has it that Sparrow actually beat L to the arrest. Should I check into it?"

The chief's eyes widened. "By all means, yes! Go ahead. At the very least, Sparrow can encourage the FBI to get involved."

"Yes, Sir. I'll make the call to Sparrow's contact person right away."

On the other side of the states, a very curious L had pulled up the files from the Willian Police Department. "No bodies, no leads. Interesting…"

As L's eyes lit up with interest, a phone call was being placed to the UK. It was one of those rare coincidences that screamed with irony, and it was about to get even more 'interesting'.

* * *

><p><strong>Until next chapter! ^_^<strong>


	5. End and Beginning

**A/N: Sorry this update took such a long time. I hope we haven't lost too many readers. I had to battle it out with the rest of my household, but I finally have a set time every week to sit down and write. I get 2 1/2 hours every Thursday or Friday. After an entire summer of having no time at all, that's a huge improvement! It took me three of those 2 1/2 hour days to get this chapter done (stress has addled my brain to the point that ideas don't come to me as clearly anymore)... so there's your time frame. I really hate I can't update every week as I did w/ _A World of Their Own_. Please just understand that the situation with my free time has been through the ringer and back. I apologize again. This chapter is pretty much just a few scenes to smoothly transition from one case to another. Happy reading. =) ~~Lorraine24**

* * *

><p>"Let me see if I have this right. Seven women have disappeared without a trace during a course of 16 months. All are between the ages of 20 and 26. All (with the exception of one) have been known to be dancers at strip bars at some point in their young adult lives. One was a known runaway. All but two were drug addicts. One was a single mother of two young children. And then of course, you have the odd ball of the bunch- the straight laced Molecular Biology major who rarely left campus grounds. No bodies have been found and only two of the dancers appear to have any connections to each other."<p>

A man with a heavy British accent narrowed his eyes as he reviewed the known facts out loud. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties. His auburn hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. His thick strawberry beard looked like fine copper wire curled up against his face, though it was neatly trimmed. He wore blue tinted glasses and a fedora hat to shade his eyes. His perfectly creased pants and casual business jacket told the investigators he was a serious professional.

He reminded the Chief of the Willian Police department of an overeducated history professor that he had once had in college. He was actually expecting the British gentleman to break into a lecture about the Roman overthrow of Gaul and the failed rebellion of Vercingetorix at any moment. Forcing the comparison to the back of his mind, the Chief promptly added another update to the information on the table.

"That's right. We have reason to believe that all of these are connected somehow. The disappearance of the Science major has thrown us off course; but just this morning another girl was reported missing by her parents. It's another local University student— an English major. She was supposedly a shy and quite girl— no police records or history of delinquency. Her circle of friends was very small. She was last seen leaving a coffee house two days ago."

"She's a student of New Hope University as well?"

"Yeah. If the disappearances of the University girls are connected to the missing dancers, then the killer has obviously shifted his victim profile from one extreme to the other. But here's the thing Mr. Ringo. The family of the first University girl to disappear organized a massive search party that covered pretty much every bit of area within the perimeter of our small city. Not one body was found— not of the University girl nor of the dancers. Actually, let me correct myself. The body of a hobo was found dead by the side of a railroad track. He was an old man who apparently died of heart failure. Searching the neighboring areas would be out of our jurisdiction, but the investigators of those areas have been notified to keep their eyes open."

Mr. Ringo remained silent as he continued to flip through the paperwork. An irritated look suddenly crossed the Chief's face. 'Is he even listening to me?' He tried hard to hide his irritation as he continued. "There is of course the possibility that not all of these cases are connected. Some could be runaways. A few could have gotten caught up in drug related crimes. To be honest, our main concerns right now are the missing University girls."

Mr. Ringo cut his eyes over to the Chief as he neatly arranged the paper work into three separate neat stacks. He placed each stack into its own folder before tucking them safely away into his briefcase. "As far as the idea of runaways are concerned, Mr. Ginfill; a woman in her twenties who is living independently has little to run away from unless she's in a bad relationship. None of these women had stable relationships and only one is believed to be connected to a local pimp. As you mentioned earlier, one was a known runaway before she even disappeared. Are you suggesting she ran away from running away? Not saying that doesn't happen. Unstable individuals can spend their entire lives running away. They have little difficulty waking up one morning and deciding on a whim to just drop everything and leave."

Ringo narrowed his eyes and crossed his hands over his briefcase. "I suppose it's pointless to develop any theories concerning those women, however. You just said yourself that your only concern is the two University students. The other missing women, including the single mother, are little more than burdens to society. Why should we care if they fall of the face of the earth? Only the most moral and productive human beings should have justice. Am I reading you right, Mr. Ginfill?"

The Chief could feel the eyes of all his detectives drilling holes through him. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he opened his mouth and hesitated. "I-I'm sorry if that's the idea I suggested. My own personal feelings shouldn't be considered when working in the justice system. But you can't really blame me for feeling that way. People always say that these immoral delinquents are the way they are because society won't give them a chance, but from where I stand, they don't _want_ society to give them a chance. They live the lifestyle they live because they _choose_ to. Offer one of them a decent job and education, the few who accept won't last a month. They create the underworld. They aren't happy anywhere else. One goes missing— what the hell did they expect?"

The uneasy silence that followed in the room made the Chief sweat even more. He felt as though he were standing in a small secluded desert during the heat of the day. Ringo stood up and gathered his remaining items. "I think you for your time, Mr. Ginfill. I can assure your questions concerning these missing women will be answered now that Sparrow is involved. You were very smart to contact us."

"Yeah, well we knew your investigation team had a lot of potential when we heard about the Model Mangler case. I understand Sparrow actually beat L to that arrest. That was one hell of an accomplishment! I'm relieved we had another option before L. Though I've never worked with him personally, I understand he's very unlikable."

"That's just it Mr. Ginfill. No one ever works with L 'personally'. He refuses. That within itself makes him unlikable. You will be getting updates from me on a daily basis, regardless of where we are in the case— yet another service that L refuses to provide. Please keep us posted if any more disappearances are reported. You have my card."

"Of course, Mr. Ringo. We thank you again for your interest in this matter. We will be in touch." With the tip of his hat, Ringo set his mental stop watch for the next case.

After wrapping up a few loose ends at the briefing, Chief Ginfill retreated to his office and closed the door behind him. He turned the blinds on the indoor windows that allowed the rest of the station to look in and fell heavily into his spinning chair. Ringo had humiliated him in front of his subordinates. He was certain the incident had lowered the level of respect the other officers had for him. Ginfill wasn't sure if his day could get any worse.

"To hell with it," he said out loud to himself with a sigh. He retrieved a pack of peanut butter crackers out of his desk drawer and straightened up in his chair. "I need a break. Let's see what's going on with Facebook today." He bit into half of a cracker and pulled up the social networking site. He brushed the cracker crumbs out of his beard as he scrolled through statuses. "Oh…" His eyes lit up as he read his wife's most recent status. "So, she decided to get an oil change instead of a facial today. Finally, the woman spends my paycheck on something useful."

Though he had done nothing to encourage it, he actually felt as though he had just won a small victory against his wife. They often argued about her manic shopping sprees. His mental victory dance was interrupted however, when a chat window popped onto the screen. Ginfill stopped chewing his cracker as he stared at the chat box. He couldn't recall installing any chat software, and it wasn't from Facebook. In fact, the title window simple read _'Message from: Unavailable'_

'_Congratulations on your Civic's oil change, Chief Ginfill. If you don't mind, I would like to have a quick word with you concerning the recent disappearances in your district.'_

Whoever it was had obviously hacked into the station's network. Ginfill could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he violently typed a reply. _'Who is this? How did you break through our firewall?'_

'_Very well, Chief Ginfill. I shall go through the formalities of introducing myself. I am L. Having said that, I don't imagine you have any lingering questions concerning my ability to access your network.'_

Chief Ginfill scowled before typing a response. _'I guess not. What can I do for you today?' _He opened windows and clicked his mouth franticly, determined to zero in on L's location and IP address.

'_I wanted to inform you that I have taken an interest in the recent disappearances that have occurred in your jurisdiction. I already have access to all of the information I need to start work on this case. However, I want to confirm something before I start.'_

'_What would that be?'_

'_Have you requested Sparrow's help with this case?'_

Ginfill wasn't sure if he wanted to answer the shady detective. He clicked over to the window he was using to track the IP address and tapped his finger on his desk with impatience._ 'I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to release that information.'_

'_According to your files (which your lieutenant updated just minutes ago), you had a meeting with Sparrow's main contact only half an hour ago. Am I correct?'_

Ginfill pounded his fist on the table. He felt like he was being interrogated._ 'Again, I'm not at liberty to say.' _His eyes widedened as the little rectangular window he was looking for appeared on the screen. TRACE SUCCESFUL.

'_Then you have just confirmed it. I thank you for your time.'_

A smile of triumph plastered itself on Ginfill's face. "Ah! I've got you now, you sneaky bastard!" He stood up from his chair as he pressed the continue button. Not even seconds later— as the page of truth was loading, L entered another message.

'_That wasn't very nice.' _

Before Ginfill had a chance to type a reply, a popup window appeared. DOWNLOADING u_ lose. exe. Ginfill tried to close the window, but there was nothing he could do. It only took 17 seconds for every computer on the network to display a blue screen. The system had been wiped clean.

"DAMN IT!" In a fit of anger, Ginfil swept his mouse and keyboard off of the desk. He gritted his teeth as three red lights on his phone lit up. "Chief Ginfill speaking. Yes, I know the computers are down!" He connected himself to the second call. "Chief Ginfill… Yes, I KNOW! The entire system is shot to hell! I need a computer technician in here immediately!" He took a deep breath as he pressed the button to connect the last call. "Chief Ginfill speaking."

"I would like to apologize for the nasty virus. However, you gave me no choice, Chief Ginfill." The synthetic voice spoke over the phone as clearly as a bell. "I assure you, your important files are not permanently lost. Please expect a CD in the mail tomorrow. It's a backup. As of now, I am working on this case. You shall receive a full report once it is solved. However, I still encourage you to share information with Sparrow. Just pretend I'm not even here."

Ginfill puffed his cheeks out like a blowfish. "You arrogant son of a bitch!" His words were lost, for the other end of the receiver had gone dead.

* * *

><p>Ari was stretched out on a hotel bed reading a novel when Ringo entered with his card key. She finished up the last two sentences of a paragraph before closing the book and smiling. "How did it go? Did they give you all of the files we need? I'm ready to get started."<p>

"It seems like an interesting case. I think they're making too big of a deal about there not being any connections between the missing dancers and the college girls." Ringo took off his overcoat and hat— along with his fake beard and wig. The much younger looking man with the contagious grin slowly surfaced from beneath the disguise. He stood in front of the mirror for several minutes, smoothing his hair into place.

Ari placed her book on the nightstand and moved to the sofa. She was eager to get started. Avery was just as eager. He placed his brief case on the table and opened it up with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "I already have a few thoughts on the case. No bodies have been found, but I'm willing to bet anything they're all in the same place."

"You're probably right." Ari flipped through each missing person report carefully. Her only distraction was the few strands of long blonde hair that insisted on falling over her eyes. She pushed them behind her ear with a slightly annoyed look on her face. Avery looked over the files as she laid them on the table. Twenty minutes passed before Ari finally broke the silence. "I think it may be indirect… but the college girls have got to have some sort of connection with at least one of these other women. They have to. I'm almost certain all of these disappearances are connected. What we need to figure out is why the culprit made such a drastic change in profile."

Avery nodded in agreement. "That's a key slice of the missing pie. We can't rule out the possibility of more than one culprit either; but if there is more than one, I'm going to guess they're working together."

Ari pulled out a notebook and pen out of the briefcase and started taking notes. "Avery, I want to find out everything there is to know about these women. Not just them, but they're immediate family, close friends, ex-boyfriends, acquaintances. I think that's the best place to start."

Avery arched his eyebrows. "Please, tell me you're going to send me to do some undercover field work on the campus."

Ari grinned slightly. "You'll have to enroll this week. The spring semester is just starting." She put the notebook down and walked over to the mirror, pulling her hair away from her face. "I wonder what I would look like as red-head."

* * *

><p>"Tell me what you see." The synthetic voice was becoming somewhat of an annoyance for Ewan McCorkel. It had sent him all the way to a desolate area of Florida and ordered him to uncover a killing ground that 'could' exist. The address had led him to an orange grove out in the middle of nowhere.<p>

"All I'm seeing right now are orange trees— rows and rows of them."

"This is where your training as an FBI agent will come into play. I need you to search beyond the oranges. What we're looking for will not be in plain sight. It will be hidden from the eyes of the workers who harvest the oranges. You must see this orange grove through the eyes of a crafty serial killer if you wish to find anything."

"Think like a killer… right." Ewan sighed heavily as he took in the vast size of the orange grove. He was going to be there for awhile. He walked over to one of the trees and picked an orange. _'Well, at the very least, I won't go hungry while I'm out here.'_

Ewan made his way to the very back of the orange groove. All the while, he held a small handheld video camera to document his progress. The scent of citrus fruit was so overpowering, it almost made him nauseous. By the time he made it to the back of the grove— where it bordered the woods, he was covered in sweat. '_My God! I feel like I've been walking for miles!'_

L had stayed on the phone with Ewan long enough to quiz him on the mechanics of a criminal mind. "The Model Mangler has several locations in which he carried out his crimes, Mr. McCorkel," L had said, "Why do you think he would pick this one in specific to lead us too?"

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ewan briefly considered throwing his cell phone into the woods. "Look, I don't know! I only know that it's hot out here and I'm not seeing anything but orange trees and woods! Why ask the rookie FBI agent all the questions when you're supposed to be the world's greatest detective?"

"Hmm. I wonder why I would do that?" A brief silence followed.

Ewan didn't like L's arrogant wit one bit. "I bet your sitting in an air conditioned office right now aren't you? Don't you think you should be the one out here doing this? No one likes a damn armchair detective that's too much of a coward to show his face!"

"How are you feeling, Mr. McGregor?"

"What — I feel like I could strangle you right now honestly!"

"And what would you do with my body once the deed was carried out? Would you use your remaining anger to mutilate it? What would be the most fitting setting? Would you want to work on me out in the open, or would you prefer to be in a small dark place?"

Ewan stopped walking. "You have a very strange way of doing things." He scanned the border of the woods slowly; looking for any trace of an opening or trail. "I'll go with it. If I killed you right now, I could just leave you out here for the birds and insects to eat. But if I did that…" Ewan had finally found the train of thought he needed to have. "If I was a serial killer— like that of the Model Mangler— there's no way I could leave your corpse out here to share with nature. Your corpse would be my trophy— my prize. I'd have to hide you in a place where only I could find you— a special place of my own choosing."

"Very impressive. Please remember as well that this location was also used to torture his victims."

"Yes! And I would want to hear them scream in pain. Every tear would be my euphoric drug. I'm getting this now! I wouldn't do it out in the open, because then the eyes of nature would see. The oranges would see, and the moment would belong to them as well."

"Go on."

"I wouldn't share… I, as the Model Mangler wouldn't want to share! Why should I? A small dark place— a place that would hide the screams. No other eyes or ears could bear witness to my ecstasy." Ewan seemed to have more of an idea of what he was looking for now. "Underground… an underground corridor! It probably isn't very deep, but it serves as the perfect fort— the perfect tomb."

"I believe you're on the right track."

Ewan's enthusiasm suddenly vanished. This orange grove covers over 20 acres. There's no telling how many square feet of woods follows it. How the hell am I supposed to find something like that in such a vast area?"

"The key is in a puzzle that was discovered on one of the bodies. Now that you have reached the back of the grove, I need you to go to the first row that's furthest east. From there, you should move 8 rows west. Go south from there— 16 yards, to be exact."

Ewan snorted in frustration. "All the way east? I'm in the middle of the damn field! You could have shared this with me before I started."

"If I made things easy for you, then your reasoning wouldn't be as sharp."

Ewan rubbed the top of his head as he started walking toward the east part of the field. "Can I ask you a question? Seriously?"

"Go ahead."

"Why am I the one you asked to come out here? Why didn't you just send a higher agent along with a search team? Why me?"

"Why not?"

"Damn! No wonder no one likes you! I guess I might as well ask the question that you asked me earlier now that it's sparked my curiosity. Of all the alleged locations that this guy has used to kill, why did he send us here? I'm perplexed."

"You've already answered that question."

"Wh— geez! Could you just give me a straight answer?"

"The bodies that have already been located were murdered at other locations— places that aren't hidden as well as this one. He didn't mind if those bodies were found. He didn't care if those were left in the open."

Ewan thought for a minute as he continued to walk. "Was I wrong then? About the underground corridor— not wanting to share? Wait, maybe you're saying this is a place that he crafted especially for this particular victim. He favored or valued this victim over the others— so much that he didn't want to share her. When he gave use this location—"

"The stress of the interrogation produced better results than expected. He gave up the location of his most precious treasure in exchange for his own well being."

"Then he was close to this one— knew her personally. He probably didn't move her body to a different location like the others, I imagine. He couldn't dump her out like a piece of garbage. We're going to find that body here today, aren't we?"

"Correct."

By the time Ewan reached his destination, L had ended the phone call. There were other cases to solve and more phone calls to make. For a detective who rarely did any field work in person, L was a very busy man. As he had promised, Ewan followed the directions that L had given him. He counted 16 rows west and then faced south towards the woods. After walking approximately 16 yards into the grown up vegetation, he stepped on a large rectangular piece of plywood.

"This is it! I found it! This has got to be it!" He fumbled around in his pocket for a cell phone and dialed out.

"Yes?"

"I think I found it! There's a flat board covered with loose soil located at the coordinates you gave me! I accidently stepped on it. It doesn't feel like there's a lot of support underneath."

"Well done, Mr. McCorkel. We've completed the puzzle. There should be no problem locating the other crime scenes now."

"Great! T— that's great!" Ewan let out a huge pant of triumph.

"Please make sure you video tape everything that is processed at the scene. Once this is complete, I will need you to return to your hotel room only long enough to gather your things and check out."

"Why? Am I going to have to confirm the other crime scenes?"

"No. This case is well past the beginning of the end. This concerns another case. I will need you to test your skills in undercover work. This will look very good on your record, Mr. McCorkel."

"Great. Well, I guess I'd be an idiot to refuse."

"Yes."

"God, I hate it when yo—"

"Your assistance is most appreciated, Mr. McCorkel. You are to travel to the town of Willian. There, you will aid in the investigation of a string of recent disappearances. You will be given more information upon your arrival."

Ewan lifted up the board with the tip of his shoe. "Yep… there's an opening. Look, I'll do it, but if you could, just call me Ewan. I can't stand hearing my father's last name over and over again."

"Thank you for everything, Ewan. Please, take your time in processing this crime scene."

The connection went dead. Ewan decided it was time for a smoke break. As he walked back towards the orange trees, he mumbled to himself. "You're a strange one, L. But damn… you know how to get things done."

From the seclusion of an old warehouse, L nibbled on a sugar cookie shaped like a teddy bear. He nibbled around the edges carefully— until it started to resemble the abstract shape of a bird's head. L was satisfied. Ewan had proven himself to be a worthy addition to his arsenal of 'pawns'. _'This case will be a key moment in your career, Ewan. I will show you how simple it is to catch a sparrow; and if necessary, I will show you how to clip its wings.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Do I sense the beginning of a detective war? See you next chapter.<strong>


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